


Danganronpa: Prisoner's Game

by doffyfan



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Fan Dangan Ronpa - Fandom, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Don't judge too hard, F/F, F/M, First fanfic ever, enjoy, original characters with original(ish) story, spoilers for chapter of Danganronpa V3 at the end of the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-01-25 15:57:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 64,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12535536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doffyfan/pseuds/doffyfan
Summary: A man wakes up and finds himself trapped inside of Dangan Maximum Security Prison with fifteen other criminals.  The man can't remember his crimes, his job, or why he was sent here. To make things worse, a quartet of sadistic stuffed animals known as the Wardens force the group into a murder game where the only way to be released is to kill a fellow prisoner and get away with it.  Can Blake remember his crimes and his purpose in order to stop the Wardens or will he succumb to despair?Currently on: Chapter 2 Daily Life Part 2Next Chapter: Chapter 2 Daily Life Part 3





	1. Prologue: Welcome To Dangan Maximum Security Prison

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fanfic and I've been working on the prologue for quite some time. I put off writing for a little bit since it was hard to introduce the characters the way I wanted to but I finally have it complete. The rest of the chapters will not be as long as the prologue and I'll try to upload once every week to two weeks.  
> Here's a few things before you read:
> 
> 1\. Mason Jessup is named after the Freemasons and a UFO researcher M.K. Jessup who died in 1959.  
> 2\. Capone Russo is named after Al Capone (no duh) and Ladd Russo from Baccano! (which is an anime you should really watch)  
> 3\. Dr. Serenity is heavily based on Dr. Peace from the game No More Heroes appearance-wise and partly personality-wise. Look up the Dr. Peace fight on Youtube if you want to get a better understanding of the person Serenity is based off of.  
> 4.. The Wardens are characters I created on my own. They're inspired by and partly based off of the Monokuma Cubs (I love those little guys). The Wardens are part comic relief and part antagonist so I'll try to keep an even mix of both roles. I hope you like them.  
> 5\. I hope you like the characters and story overall.  
> 6\. There will be Class Trials (called Prison Trials) and I will make them as interactive as possible.  
> 7\. Sorry if the formatting is kind of weird. I've never posted on this site before.

**Danganronpa: Prisoner’s Game**

  
**Prologue: Welcome To Dangan Maximum Security Prison**

Everyone says that prisoners are bad people. That they’ve done something to deserve their fate. That they’re the scum of society who can only repent by praying behind bars. That they’re the type of people who feel no remorse over the deaths and suffering they’ve caused. I used to hold the same views as the rest of society.

Now, some of my closest friends are prisoners. I’ve realized that prisoners are just normal people, like you and me, who have made the wrong choices in life. Some prisoners I’ve met feel no regard for their crimes but are good people where it counts. Others regret their crimes and are some of the truest friends I’ve ever made. People are never who they seem to be. Sometimes they’ll have your back. Sometimes they’ll try to betray you. You have to quickly learn who you can trust before it’s too late.

How do I know all of this? It’s simple. I was a prisoner once. I’ve been forced to witness the lengths people will go to in order to get what they want and the very temptations that allow humans to fall into despair. The prison I was held in wasn’t like any other prison I’ve ever seen. This was a place where I was forced to witness my friends die at the hands of the sadistic Wardens. This was a place where I battled against true despair and won. This was a place where I ultimately changed the fate of not just my friends but the entire United States . This is my story.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
“Ugh. Where am I?” I wondered out loud, rubbing my head. “Why does my head hurt?” I ran my fingers through my short and scruffy brown hair to look for any signs of head injury. I felt no bumps or bruises and finally took in my surroundings. I realized that I was sitting on a ratty old bed with cotton sheets. The bed felt hard like a stone and I stood up to inspect the room I was in.

There was a mirror in the middle of the back corner of the room. I walked over to it and inspected myself. My hazel eyes gazed back at me and my ahoge stood on end. I tried to flatten my hair down but my ahoge popped back up. I brushed my hands over blue t-shirt feeling for any signs of damage on my chest. I gazed down at my arms next. There were no signs of injury except for the scar on my right wrist that I’ve had since I was six.

Suddenly, I realized that I was missing something. I frantically looked around the room until I found the object I was looking for sitting on top of a sink in the far right corner of the room. It was a tan ratty old fedora with hand stitching made by… Wait, who made my hat? I started to panic. I should be able to remember who made this hat since it’s my signature accessory. It was a gift from someone but I couldn’t remember who. Come to think of it, I couldn’t remember anything. I remembered who I was but I couldn’t remember what my job was, who my family was, or how I got here. Why can’t I remember anything?, I thought. I decided to shake these worrisome thoughts aside and continued searching the room.

The room was pretty bare bones. Obviously, there was the bed and the sink but there was also a small shelf filled with assorted books. There was also a large monitor adorning one of the walls. “Must be a television,” I thought. I searched the room for a remote but couldn’t find one. I thought that this room was some sort of low-rate dorm with its crappy accommodations and drab gray walls but then I saw the door. The door was made of solid iron and had no doorknob or handle. There was a small set of bars that acted as a window at the top of the door and a small slot in the middle to slide things through. I finally realized where I was.

A prison cell? What’s going on? Where am I? What am I doing here? Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted when the monitor flickered to life.

“Attention everyone,” a gruff and gravelly voice announced from the screen. The voice was accompanied by a shadowy silhouette that looked anything but human. Was that a silhouette of… a dog? “Please gather in the Assembly Hall for your orientation,” the voice continued. “I hate waiting, so you bastards better not dawdle. You don’t want piss me off, do you?” the voice threatened. “Don’t worry about getting lost. Your Prisoner Pad will show you a map of the area so I don’t want to hear any shitty excuses about getting lost. Bye-bye! We’ll see you really soon,” the voice said, laughing menacingly as the screen turned off.

Huh? Prisoner Pad? I reached around in my pockets and pulled out a thin black tablet-like device. I pressed the power button and the device flickered to life. A screen popped up displaying different functions. There was a map of the facility, something called Prisoner Profiles, and a rules and regulations section. Based on what’s on my Prisoner Pad, my suspicions were confirmed. I was trapped in a prison.  
I opened the map and a layout of the entire place appeared on the screen. The screen showed that I was currently in the Male Prisoner Ward where I assumed that male prisoners are held. There were other areas nearby but I ignored those and instead focused on finding the Assembly Hall on the map. It was located directly in the center of the prison and I assumed that it was a place for people to hold meetings.

I walked towards my cell door and hesitantly gave it a small push. The door creaked open and I jumped back in surprise. I exited the cell and took a quick look around me. There were four cells on the opposite side of the hallway and three other cells on the side my cell was on. The hallway was barren and crumbly and the walls were an ugly shade of grayish black. It was as if the hallway was some sort of mouth waiting to swallow me whole. I shuddered as I headed towards the belly of the beast, not knowing what would await me in the Assembly Hall.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
I stood in front of the doors of the Assembly Hall and pushed them open. The room was a cavernous space with bleached white walls with beams of bright light shining through the windows. There was a large stage in the center of the room and rows of chairs a few feet away. A gray podium rested on top of the stage and the front was emblazoned with a strange logo of a red evil eye. To me, this room seemed more fitting for a church than a prison.

Around me stood fifteen other people who were sizing each other up. It makes sense for them to be regarding each other so warily, I thought. Hell, my heart’s racing like crazy. I have no idea where we are or what’s happening. I guess it couldn’t hurt to introduce myself and get to know everyone.

I first approached a man with a spiky green mohawk. I tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around. He was a tall man with pale glistening skin and baby blue eyes. He had a nose ring and a black “H” earring on his right ear and a red “R” earring on his left ear. As I looked closer at him, I noticed that the tips of his mohawk were jet-black and that he was wearing a silver chain necklace with a skull on it. He also was carrying a lime green electric guitar on his back.

“Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Blake Dredige.”

“H-to the- e- to the- ll yeah! Shred it all out and you get… hell yeah!” the guy shouted, pulling out his guitar and rocking out. “The name’s Leon Arrowdive! It’s a fucking pleasure to meet you!”

Leon Arrowdive  
Profession: guitarist  
Crimes: cocaine possession, illegal cocaine usage, driving under the influence of drugs, aggravated assault

“Looks like you really enjoy your guitar. Do you play?” I asked.

“Do I play? That’s like asking a fish if it swims or a bird if it flies. Of course I fucking play!” Leon boasted. “In fact, I was part of a badass rock band called the Hell Raisers. I was the lead guitarist and the star of the show!”

“You’re not a part of the band anymore?”

“Nah. Me and the guys had a bit of a… falling out. I don’t associate myself with them anymore.”

“Is it because of your cocaine addiction?” I inquired.

“Hell no! We just had a difference of opinions. Besides, I’m clean now. Haven’t snorted coke since since I was arrested. That’s what I told that drug-toting bitch over there,” Leon said, pointing towards a woman standing a few feet away.

“Okay,” I said hesitantly. “It was… nice to meet you,” I said.

That guy sure seems eccentric and loud. I guess his music reflects his personality perfectly.

Next, I approached the woman that Leon insulted. She was a tall woman with a crooked jaw and brown eyes with a hazy and almost hungry look to them. Grayish red hair dreadlocks spilled out from her gray beanie and she had her hands stuffed in the deep pockets of her baggy hoodie. She flashed me a smile and I saw the gleam of a gold tooth in her mouth.

“Looking to buy some drugs? I’ve got dope, speed, and even a few Oxys” she said, scanning me with her hungry gaze and pulling out a bag of a powdered substance.

“No thanks,” I stuttered. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“Sorry. I tend to get a little bit pushy when I meet potential clients. Guess coming on strong is in my nature. The name’s Nara Zeilgiss. Pleasure to meet you,” she said.

 

Nara Zeilgiss  
Profession: drug dealer  
Crimes: cocaine, marijuana, heroin, etc., illegal distribution of drugs, operating an unlicensed drug farm

“That explains your question before,” I said.

“Yup. I give people their fix. Whether it’s LSD, marijuana, speed, or any other drug, I can get you the pleasure you’re looking for,” she replied.

“Isn’t it dangerous to sell drugs to people off the street? What do you do if they die of an overdose from a product you sold them?” I asked.

“Not my damn problem,” she said, glaring at me. “If you’re done introducing yourself and aren’t looking to buy anything, then go away. There’s fourteen other people I haven’t tried selling to yet and I’m dying to make a profit,” she said, dismissively waving her hand at me.

She wasn’t kidding when she said she was pushy, I thought as I made my way towards a man and a woman who engaged in a conversation about the arts.

The woman’s skin was glossy shade of white, an indication that she spent much of her time in the sun. She had long and slender arms and legs and a petite frame. She had a tattoo of a purple heart on each of her shoulders which were slightly obscured by her long and flowing golden blond hair.

“Ah!” she screamed as she turned around and saw me approach. “OMG! You, like, totes scared me for a second.”

“Sorry about that. I’m just trying to get to know everyone here and see what’s happening,” I said, scratching the back of my head as I apologized.

“That’s, like, no problem at all,” she replied, her caramel brown eyes gazing at me from her Hollywood-esque shades. From the front, I could see that she was wearing a white tank top, a purple skirt with flowers on it as well as gray sandals exposing her bare feet. Her clothing seemed a little skimpy, highlighting her modest bust and accentuating her legs. I couldn’t help but give a quick glance at her figure.

“Ew, like, stop staring at me, you perv,” she snapped.

“Sorry,” I said, a blush creeping up on my face.

 

“It’s, like, no trouble at all. That’s what you get for living the Cali way,” she said with a smile. “By the way, I’m, like, Audrey Tappan. I’m sure you’ve totes heard of me and my work.”

Audrey Tappan  
Profession: snuff film director  
Crimes: countless charges of murder, kidnapping, distribution of illegal material (snuff films), false documentation of business

“I’m Blake Dredige,” I said, the color draining from my face after learning who this woman was. “And no, I’ve never seen any of your movies.”

“What? But they’re, like, ingenious! I direct horror snuff films where the actors,like, die for realsies! Like, what’s scarier than seeing someone really die on screen? My actors are mutilated, beheaded stabbed, crushed, and suffer any other horrifying death you can imagine,” she said with a beaming smile.

“Y-you KILL your actors?” I stuttered.

“Yep, it’s all about giving the audience a real scare. That’s what MGM, Metro Gold Magic, is all about. It’s my very own totes fun horror movie company,” she said with twisted glee.

“I must admit, this woman is a true artist much like myself,” the man she was talking to earlier said. “No other horror movie director I’ve heard of has ever shown this much dedication to their craft.”

The man was of average height and had short messy raven-black hair covered by a blue beanie. He had scarlet red eyes that seemed to pierce my soul as he stared at me. If looks could kill, I’d already be dead from looking at him. He also had a shield-shaped burn mark on the left side of his face and a gold chain necklace hung from his neck.

“You’re an artist too?” I asked him.

“Correct. I’m one of the best artists around. My art is an explosion of creativity and beauty. The name’s Emile Bergate. But you can call me Ember. Everyone does.”

 

Emile “Ember” Bergate  
Profession: bomber/arsonist  
Crimes: numerous bombings, destruction of property, bomb threats, bomb possession

“You see, my art is a cut above what you see in fancy museums. Anyone can paint or carve a sculpture. That takes very little work. But not many people can create beauty from the destruction and impact of an explosion. Bombs are my specialty. I make all sorts of bombs,” Emile said as he began to sound more deranged while keeping his calm tone. “Color bombs, junk bombs, firework bombs, any type of bomb or explosive imaginable. My art is truly a blast! The beauty of the initial blast! The destruction it causes! It’s magnificent,” he gushed.

Emile frowned as he saw my somewhat disturbed expression. “My mistake,” he said, shaking my hand. “I get carried away with my art sometimes. Don’t  
worry. I’m not some deranged lunatic. I just want to get along with everyone here. I hope we can become friends.”

“Sure,” I replied, not knowing what to make of his attitude now.

“Great,” he said grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll try to think of a cool nickname for you. I’ve got a knack for nicknames.”

“Sounds great,” I said to him. “I’m going to talk to everyone else. I’ll see you both later,” I said as Audrey waved goodbye with a ditzy smile on her face.

And I thought Leon was weird. Just how crazy is everyone here? Will I be the only sane one here?

I made my way over to a man who was fiddling with strange-looking pistols in his hands. He was a fairly tall man with bushy black hair and a an equally bushy black mustache. He had dark brown eyes and his skin color was a reddish tan, suggesting that the had some Native American blood. He was wearing a strange leather jacket made from horsehide and the back of the jacket had a fish leaping over a rising sun. Underneath the jacket, he wore a suit shirt and suit pants. He wore black gloves and the pistols were golden with deer hide grips. The sides of the guns had majestic eagles etched into the metal and the grips had the initials DB on them.

“How do you do?” he said in a low Southern drawl. “The name’s Damian Bronson. But just call me Dr. Serenity or Serenity for short. That’s the name everyone calls me.”

 

Dr. Serenity  
Profession: contract killer  
Crimes: assassination, resisting arrest, countless murder charges, illegal use of unregistered firearms

“Why do they call you Dr. Serenity?” I asked.

“It’s because all of my targets die with a seemingly peaceful look on their faces. If you ask me, that’s just a facade and they all fear judgement after death. Everyone does. As for the Dr. title, I used to be a physician. Of course, I gave that all up to become the scum I am today,” he explained.

“What are you talking about? You’re not scum. You seem like a pretty… pleasant person for being a killer,” I said.

“I envy you for having that sort of viewpoint towards others, especially criminals,” he said with a chuckle. “Criminals like myself, who take the lives of other people, are nothing but scum. We live our whole lives killing without meaning and doing whatever we’re told in order to make a quick buck. People like me have got no reason to live. I’ve already given up my wife and daughter because of my work. I’m just an empty shell of a man.”

“That can’t be true,” I said. “Everyone’s got something to live for.”

“Not me. I’m nothing but a burden to society and a waste of space that keeps on breathing,” he said with a pensive look. “Please, just leave me be.”

Since it was clear that Dr. Serenity was done talking, I decided to talk to someone else. I approached a woman with purple hair that styled in a neat bun held in place by an orange scrunchie. She was wearing orange wide-rimmed glasses and her violet eyes peered at me through her lenses. She had long and slender legs that were highlighted by her black knee socks. She wore an ivory colored suit with a green tie and my eyes widened as I saw that she was wearing what appeared to be solid gold high heels.

“Excuse me. Who said you could approach me?” she asked with a sneer.

“S-sorry,” I stuttered, getting caught off guard by this woman’s condescending tone. “I’m just trying to meet everyone and get a feel for our situation.”

“I guess that’s fine. After all, even peasants like yourself deserve to speak with the elite every now and then.”  
“Peasant? What are you, some kind of spoiled princess?” I snapped.

“Nope, I’m just one of the every few wealthy elites this country produces. Everyone else is just churned out as poor and unfortunate peasants meant to bow before those with all of the wealth,” she replied. “I’m Maisy Harnett. Perhaps you’ve heard of my financial success. And yes, these are solid gold high heels.”

Maisy Harnett  
Profession: CEO of Glimpse  
Crimes: embezzlement, child labor, labor law violations, check washing

“Oh yeah. You do look a little familiar. I recognize you know from the newspaper.”

Glimpse was a billion dollar fashion industry that not only produced some of the world’s leading fashion trends but also published its own fashion magazine. There were scandalous articles in newspapers all over the country revealing the corruption and inner workings of the company. The CEO was caught embezzling a large percent of profits earned into her own salary and was also caught check washing some of her employees’ checks in order to further line her pockets. Upon further investigation, it was also revealed that the company heavily relied on child labor and that the CEO was aware of this the whole time.

“How could you do something so selfish?” I demanded. “You screwed your employees out of their paychecks to fatten your wallet and used child labor to avoid spending as much money as possible on production costs. You sicken me,” I said, glaring at her.

“Who cares what a peasant like you thinks? You don’t know the ways of the world. The elite and wealthy run the world and as long as you have money, you have power. The more money you have’ the more power you have. The ones on top are the ones who hold all the wealth and all the power. I’m one of those people. People like you can’t tell me what to do. I’m the one who tells others what to do. So don’t you dare tell me you’re disgusted by me when you’re too poor for your opinions to matter,” she spat. “Now buzz off. I’ve had enough of you,” she said, waving her hand to dismiss me.

And I thought Nara was rude, I thought, huffing away from Maisy in annoyance. How does that bitch get off treating others like that? Money isn't everything.

Next, I approached a tall and muscular man wearing a red jacket. The jacket was open and I could see his white t-shirt that accentuated his six pack abs. His frame was very muscular and his muscles seemed to pulse with strength. He was also wearing a tie and brown suit pants The man had bleached blond hair and eyes the color of the sea. He smiled at me and I could see a small mole on his left nostril.

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you,” he said, absent-mindedly shaking my hand while staring at a women standing a few feet away from him.  
“Um, hi? I’m Blake Dredige,” I replied.

“Damn. Look at the ass on her. And those breasts too. And she’s a nurse too. Sexy one at that. Helloooo nurse!” he said in a creepy yet romantic tone. He turned back to me. “Don’t you think she’s smoking hot?”

“Uh, I’m not sure if-” I started.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized. “ I guess I just assumed that she’s type of woman you’re into. Maybe you like your women top heavy. Maybe you like them bottom heavy. Maybe you like women with thick legs and an even thicker-”

“Enough,” I said with an aggravated sigh. “Stop being such a pervert. I don’t even know your name.”

“Whoops. Sorry about that. Nothing causes me to lose focus more than women. I’m Alan Merkowitz. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Alan Merkowitz  
Profession: photographer  
Crimes: sexually assaulting clients, taking sexual photos and uploading them online without consent from the subject

“There are two things I love most in the world,” Alan said. “That’s photography and women. Hot and sexy babes combined with pristine and professional photography techniques create the perfect pictures. Wouldn’t you agree?” Alan asked.

“How about we talk about more important things?” I asked, dodging his question. “Do you remember how you got here?”

“Nope, can’t say that I remember,” he said, rubbing his chin. “All I know is that I was on trial for sexual assault and the jury found me guilty. Next thing I knew I woke up in a jail cell,” he explained.

“The same thing happened to me,” I explained. “But I don’t remember what happened to me before I got here,” I said, furrowing my brow. “To tell you the truth, I don’t even remember what crimes I committed or what my job was.”

“That’s fine. You’re probably just a little disoriented after waking up in a jail cell. I’m sure you’ll remember your crimes,” Alan said, patting me on the back.

“In the meantime, why don’t we be friends?” he asked. “You seem like a nice guy. I may be kind of perverted but I’m just the kind of loyal and dependable guy you want by your side. What do you say?”

“Sure,” I replied. “I think we’ll get along fine.” I thanked Alan for his offer and walked off to speak with the woman he spoke about earlier. At least he’s easier to get along with than most people I’ve met here so far, I thought. It’s just a matter of whether I can trust him or not.

I have to admit, Alan was not wrong about the woman. She was fairly tall with fiery red hair and long eyelashes that seemed to flutter in the wind. She had gorgeous brown eyes and had beautiful and full lips coated with blue lipstick.  
He had one of the most stunning figures of any woman I’d ever met. She had massive bouncing breasts that almost spilled out of her short and somewhat skimpy top. She was curvaceous with curves in her hips and ass. She had long and slender legs that looked smooth and sexy in the light. She was wearing a short skirt that I swore could show her panties through it. She also wore high heels and had a gold necklace around her neck. I could also notice that hot pink nail polished on her silky smooth and well-kept hands.

“Like what you see here?” she asked in a silky and seductive voice. “Her comment broke me out of my thoughts and I realized that I was staring at her body.

“S-sorry,” I said with a blush. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

“I don’t care if you want to stare at me. I know I’m sexy. That’s what I told that photographer,” she answered.

“What’s your name?” I asked her.

“Eager to get into bed with me, I see?” she teased in a seductive manner.

“N-no. I just want to know who you are and why you’re at this prison.”

“I’m just teasing you. I wouldn’t go to bed with a guy like you. Not unless you’ve got tons of money. I’m Pamela Lobell. But everyone who’s met me calls me Ginger.”

Ginger (Pamela Lobell)  
Profession: prostitute, nurse  
Crimes: prostitution, evasion of the law, theft

“So you’re a prostitute?” I asked her.

“Yep. But it’s only to pay my way through nursing school,” she replied with a sigh. “Any education is expensive. I grew up pretty poor and didn’t have the money for college after graduating high school. So, I decided to pay for an education with my body,” she explained.

“You don’t feel degraded by what you do?” I asked.

“Not at all. I really enjoy the attention and being in the spotlight. It also gives me an excuse to rob any poor sucker who sleeps with me. I’ve stolen quite a few wallets and credit cards that way,” she said. “However, my real passion is becoming a nurse so if you ever get injured, just come and let me know. I’ll be happy to take care of you,” she purred, grasping onto my arm and burying her chest into my shoulder.

“S-sure thing,” I said, blushing as I broke free from her grip. She comes on a little strong but Alan was right. She really is stunning.

I then approached a woman standing in the corner by herself. She was somewhat short with smooth, almost porcelain-like skin. She was wearing a red traditional kimono with a yellow sash wrapped around it and wooden sandals. She also wore a ring with a viper engraved into it on her left index finger. The strangest thing about her though was her face- or lack of a face. Her face was obscured by a tan mask of a viper. The viper’s mouth was wide open and two long dagger-like rubber teeth poked out from the mouth. Even through the eyeholes, I couldn’t see what the woman looked like underneath the mask. I could see her staring at me and she tried to further squeeze herself into the corner.

“Sorry for staring at you. I was just wondering what you looked like under that mask. Could you take it off for a second?” I asked gently.

“S-sorry,” she said in a soft and whispery tone. “I can’t do that. They told me that I was an ugly and worthless good for nothing. They ordered me to wear this and I can’t ignore an order,” she said with a tinge of sadness in her voice.

“Who told you to wear that? I’m pretty sure you look nice underneath,” I replied, noticing the woman’s almost complete lack of self-confidence.  
“R-really, I'm not that beautiful. I’m flawed, deeply flawed, underneath my mask,” she said.

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to start anything. I just wanted to know your name and learn why you’re here,” I explained.

“Alright. My name’s Cáng Dúshé. It means ‘hiding viper’ in Chinese. If it’s to hard to say, j-just c-call me Viper. I-it’s nice to meet you.”

Cáng Dúshé  
Profession: former Triad, thief  
Crimes: drug-dealing, assassination, theft, illegal pyrotechnics, extortion, trafficking, fleeing arrest

“So you’re a Triad? That means you’re Chinese. I thought you were Japanese at first. So, what doe the Triads do exactly? I’ve heard of them before,” I stated.

“I-I’m a former Triad,” Cáng said. “I f-f-fled China to escape from them. T-they were awful. They made me do so many terrible things. I’ve killed, plundered, bribed, and burned my way through China b-because t-they made me do it. The leaders were so scary. When they were being arrested, I f-fled the country and came here for a new life,” she said, sobbing at the painful memories she must have been thinking of.

“Everything's fine now, isn't it?” I asked inquisitively. She nodded her head, still quietly sobbing. I gave her a hug, telling her everything was fine and left to continue making my introductions.

What the hell happened to that woman? She’s like a doormat. People probably walk all over her because of her lack of self-confidence, I thought.

As bad as I felt for Cáng and the horrors she went through, I pushed those thoughts out of my mind and approached a fairly short man who looked no taller than 5’ 3”. He was stocky and had an Italian build to him. He had piercing red eyes that glared at me. If looks could kill, I would already be dead just from looking at his spiteful gaze. He had silvery hair, a nose looked like some sort of crooked beak, and a scar on his right cheek. He was wearing a black Italian suit with black suit pants. He also wore black shoes, a black fedora, and a blood red bowtie. A red handkerchief sat in the front pocket of his suit. I instantly recognized who the man was.

“You’re Capone Russo, head of the Russo Family, right?” I asked, extending my hand as a greeting. “I’m Blake Dredige by the way.”

“What the hell are you doing talking to me?” he said in calm and deadpan way with a mobster-like Italian accent. “If you already know who I am, then you obviously know what I’ve done. You must be fucking stupid to come talk to me then. Maybe you’ve got a death wish,” he growled, pulling out a silver pistol from his pocket.

Capone Russo  
Profession: mob boss  
Crimes: murder, theft, harassment of citizens, money laundering, kidnapping, blackmailing

“Easy there. No need to get worked up,” I said. “I only wanted to introduce myself.”

“If you know who I am, then you should know that I’m not a patient guy. I kill assholes like you rather than talk it out with them. Talk is cheap to me,” he stated.

“Alright. Jeez, I already told you that all I want to do is introduce myself,” I said.

“I don’t really give a shit what you want to do,” he said with a sneer. “I’m not in prison to make friends. I’m here because I’ve fucked some people’s lives up. But I don’t care. I’m proud of what I’ve done and who I've killed. The deaths I’ve caused mean nothing to me. The people my men and I have killed are nothing more than blank faces to me. I could give a shit less about them, about you, and about anyone else here. Now fuck off. Unless you want a bullet right through your skull,” she said, placing his finger on the trigger of his pistol.

I gulped nervously and hurried away. That man is a monster. I can see why the newspapers covered his arrest so extensively. This guy’s like a machine. He doesn’t care what he does or who he killed, I thought. His deadpan voice and violent threats still rang in my mind. Capone’s going to be bad news. I can already tell.

I approached a tall and muscular woman next. She was African American and had massive rippling muscles that made her look a little like a bodybuilder. She had long black hair tied in one long braid and hazel eyes as well. She was wearing a muscles tee and jean shorts with ripped fringe. She had a silver ring in her left index finger that had a symbol of a sun on it.

“Huh? Can I help you?” she asked, staring at me curiously.  
“What do you mean?” I asked.

“What do you mean by ‘What do you mean?’ You’ve gotta show more courage than that. If you want something from me, just say it,” she said with fiery passion in her voice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

“You don’t? Aw, that’s a shame. The name’s Ayla Camden. Nice to meet ya,” she said.

Ayla Camden  
Profession: black market dealer  
Crimes: possession of illegal firearms, smuggling, drug possession, pirating

“I see. Now your question makes more sense,” I said, chuckling at her being a black market dealer.

“What’s so funny about that?” she asked.

“Well, you’re a black market dealer right? And you’re also black. It’s a little funny when you think about it,” I stated.

“Huh? What do you mean?” she asked.

Guess she’s not the brightest bulb.

“Are you making fun of my job?” she shouted.

“N-no. I just-”

“One thing that pisses me off is people who laugh at another person's passions. A person’s dreams are their business and theirs alone. People should be free to live life the way they want to,” she proclaimed.

“So, what exactly do you sell?” I asked, trying to divert her attention.

“I’m a jack-of-all trades,” Ayla said. “From drugs to firearms to the latest movies, I've got it all. I can sell you anything you want for the right price. Care to take a look?” she asked.

“Maybe later,” I said. “I’ve still got a few more people to meet.”

“Alright. See ya around.”

Ayla seems nice enough, I thought. But she’s got a fierce and fiery outlook that’s more intense than anyone I’ve ever met. She really comes on strong. With her ferocity, I’m sure she could even scare a full-grown lion.

Next, I walked up to a very short man who looked no taller than four feet. He was a portly man with an obese frame and a stomach that bulged slightly out of the green apron he was wearing. He had gray curly hair peeking out of this red chef’s hat and red eyes that gave me the creeps (they reminded me of Capone). However, this man’s eyes had a hungry and almost beast-like gaze. He had dimpled cheeks that made him remind me a little of the Pillsbury Doughboy. The man also wore a white chef outfit that had gray buttons and four gold stars on the collar, two on each side of the shirt. The most bizarre thing about him was the maks we was wearing over his mouth. It was the same kind of mask that cannibals wear.

“Ah, bonjour,” the man said in a comically stereotypical-sounding French accent. “You look positively appetizing. If it eez not too much trouble, can I get a little taste of your flesh? It would please me greatly,” he said, drooling a little bit.

What the hell’s with this guy?

“Ah, sorry, sorry. Old habits die hard, I suppose. Zee name is Pierre Gourmand. I’m one of the best chefs and gourmets this world has ever known,” he said.

Pierre Gourmand  
Profession: chef; self-proclaimed gourmet  
Crimes: cannibalism, human trafficking, murder, bribing health officials and food reviewers

“So you’re a cannibalistic chef?” I asked.  
“I wouldn’t call myself a cannibal. Human meat is a traditional delicacy from where I come from,” Pierre said with a shrug.  
“They eat human flesh in France?” I exclaimed.

“No, zey do not eat flesh in France. They eat it daily in a remote village in South America where I was born and raised,” he said with a sigh.

“So you’re not French?” I asked.

“Of course I am! How dare you suggest something like zat!” he spat. “I’ll have you know I ran one of the most successful restaurants in France. It would have stayed open if ze health officials hadn’t stopped accepting my bribes and shut me down. All I did was serve ze people of France human flesh. The public acted as if I was some sort of monster for what I cooked.”

“Do you know any dishes that don't contain human flesh?” I asked. “I’d be happy to try your cooking then.”

“Of course I do! I’m one of ze world’s best chefs! I’ll cook you an amazing meal sometime, my friend,” he said with flourish.

This guy gives me the creeps. I thought. At least it doesn't seem like he’ll snap and try to eat me anytime soon.

Next, I approached a fifty -something-year-old woman who had long blond hair tied back in a ponytail. She had light green eyes and rosy cheeks. She was slim and had a warm and pleasant smile that seemed serene and inviting. She wore a baby blue blouse with a yellow smock apron. She had silk stockings and gray boots too. I could see a birthmark on her right shoulder as well.

“Hello,” the woman said in some sort of European accent that I couldn’t place. “There’s no need to be afraid,” she said in a soothing voice. “I assure you that I won’t hurt you. I just want everyone to get along peacefully without worry,” she said to me, as if I were a child.

“Nice to meet you too. You don’t have to treat me like a child though. I’m tougher than you think,” I said with a hint of indignance in my voice.

“I am so sorry,” she said politely. “I’m so used to working with children that I sometimes treat adults the same way that I treat my students,” she explained.  
“Students? Are you some kind of teacher?” I asked.

“That’s right. My name is Rachnae Svelta. I’ve spent fifteen years working with children.”

Rachnae Svelta  
Profession: elementary school teacher  
Crimes: tax evasion

“You don’t strike me as the type of person the be in jail for anything,” I commented.

“You know how the government is with getting people to pay their taxes,” she said with a nervous smile.

“Okay,” I said, skeptical of whether she was telling the truth or not. “You must really love kids if you’ve been a teacher for that long.”

“I love each and everyone of my students. I’ve taught them and they’ve taught me. If it weren't for my students, I wouldn;t be the matronly kind-hearted person you see before you,” she explained. “I’m also a mother myself. I;ve got two boys, one twenty-year-old and one ten-year-old. They’re my whole world,” she said. “I hope we’ll be released soon. I;ve never been apart from my boys.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” I said, trying to ease her worries.

“I hope so,” she said.

Rachnae seems different from everyone here. It’s almost as if she doesn't belong here entirely. She seems easy to get along with. Wish she wouldn't treat people like a child though, I thought.

Next, I approached a man who looked like he was at least seven feet tall. The man looked like a giant and had a wildly unkempt jungle of shaggy brown hair and olive green eyes partially obscured by his hair. A pair of thick black glasses with gray lense rested on his face and he had some unshaven stubble on his chin. He was wearing a ratty and torn-up brown trench coat with deep pockets that he had his hands jammed into. He also wore a silky gray scarf around his neck and he had a nervous and frantic look on his face. An expression of pure shock appeared on his face when he saw me.

“S-stay back! I-I won’t let you control my mind with your nefarious mind-reading powers! I-I have a metal plate in my head! The Illuminati can’t control me!” he babbled nervously.

“Illuminati? What are you talking about? I’m not a member of the Illuminati. I’m just a regular guy,” I said.

“I-if you’re not a member of the Illuminati or some other secret society, then are you an alien? A lizard person? Are you an ambassador of the Elder Gods?” he asked.

“The hell are you talking?” I asked. “I’m just a human. A normal human.”

“S-sorry,” he said, removing his hands from his pockets to adjust his glasses. His hands were gnarled and twitchy and it seemed as if his hands never stopped shaking. “You never know if you’re talking to a government spy or not. You can’t be too careful,” the man said.  
“If you really aren't plotting anything against me, then I guess I can tell you my name,” he said in a nervous tone. “I’m Mason Jessup. Don’t expect us to become friends or anything. I don't trust anyone except myself.”

Mason Jessup  
Profession: conspiracy theorist, UFO researcher  
Crimes: conspiring against the government, kidnapping, murder

“So you’re a conspiracy theorist. That’s… interesting,” I commented.

“I can tell you think that I’m crazy. Everyone does. People are just too ignorant to realize that we can’t trust the government. They’re the ones keeping UFOs under wraps and are in league with the shadow government to create a New World Order,” Mason ranted. “In fact, I bet that the shadow government or some similar group is responsible for trapping us here!”

“That’ not necessarily true,” I said. “This is probably just a normal-”

Mason started mumbling a bunch of stuff under his breath as he slinked away from me. I heard him mention the words “shadow government” and “fluoride brainwashing”. I sighed with exasperation and looked for the final person in the room.

Jeez, I thought. Mason’s insane. He’s a conspiracy crackpot. All of that stuff he spouts is a bunch of nonsense. Nothing bad’s going to happen to us.

I approached the final person I had yet to talk to. She was looked about 5’9’ and ha blue curly hair and sea green eyes. She was wearing a red sweater and gray sweatpants and a pair of orange headphones hung around her neck. She had a keyboard strapped to her waist and a strange phone-like audio device attached to her shirt underneath her breasts.

“Uh, hello,” I said, not knowing what to say due to her strange appearance. The woman stared back at me and said nothing. “Hi, my name’s Blake Dredige. Who are you?” I asked, trying to get her to talk to me. “Don’t be rude,” I said with a sigh. “All I want to do is get to know you.  
”  
“I- WOULD- RATHER- YOU- LEAVE- ME- ALONE,” a robotic voice rang out.

“Huh? What was that?” I asked her. “Did you hear it too?”

“OF- COURSE-I- HEARD- IT,” the voice said again as I saw the woman typing away on the keyboard. “I’M- THE- ONE- SAID- THAT.”

“I see. That audio thing on your chest is some sort of text-to-speech translator,” I said.

“EXACTLY,” the woman said. She fiddled with a dial on the side of the audio device. “Is this better?” she asked in a somewhat quiet and aloof tone. “I changed the voice setting.”  
“That’s better. Now, can you tell me your name?” I asked.

“I’m Elizabeth Allbright. Don’t expect much from me. I’m not very good with people. I’m pretty reclusive and shy.”

Elizabeth Allbright  
Profession: hacker; former computer engineer  
Crimes: hacking, downloading and leaking classified documents, identity theft, fraud

“Why choose to be a hacker, Liz?” I asked her.

“L-liz?” she asked, a blush creeping onto her face.

“Yeah, I thought it would be a nice nickname. Don’t you think?” I said with a smile.

“I’ve never had a nickname before,” she said. “It’s nice.” Then, she went silent and started to slink away from me.

Guess she’s not a social butterfly, I thought. She could have at least answered my question though. I hope I can get to know her better.

“All right! All right! Everybody shut up!” a voice suddenly rang out. Upon hearing the voice, everyone stopped talking and looked towards the source of the sound. This is the same voice I heard on the monitor, I thought. What does it want now? “It’s time for us to start the opening ceremony!” it yelled. “Ready guys! Let’s fucking do this!”

Suddenly, the podium opened up and a small chained box popped out. The box reminded me of a small jail cell complete with a lock on the outside. The two halves closed and the podium returned to normal. We all stared at the box, anticipating what sort of hell might await us.

“Damn it!” the voice yelled as a loud clang echoed through the Assembly Hall. “I hit my fucking head on the box lid! Alright, who screwed up and left the lock on?”

“I believe it was Monocat, sir” a serious and icy voice replied.

“Yahaha! Sorry about that! I was just so excited to do this! We really know how to make an entrance!” a high pitched and somewhat squeaky voice rang out. Then, a loud snore broke through the sound of the voices bickering inside of the box.

“Wake up, you lazy bastard. It’s time to introduce ourselves,” the cold voice said as a piercing sound rang out.

“Ow… you kicked me,” a lazy voice replied.

“There’s a lot more where that came from if you don’t wake up. We could have been out of here sooner if it wasn’t for Monocat’s stupidity,” the cold voice said, malice dripping in his every word.

“Hey! Don’t go blaming this on me! I said I was sorry!” the high-pitched voice replied. “Besides, this isn’t so bad. At least we’re spending some quality time together.”

“Yeah, time spent being trapped in a fucking box!” the gruff voice shouted.

“Just get on with it!” Capone yelled. “Stop wasting my time with your stupid shit and show yourselves already.” He reached for the gun in his pocket. “You don’t want to know what happens when you piss me off.”

Then, we heard muffled whispers coming from the box. At that moment, the lid of the box sprang open and the things inside of it made their appearance. I couldn’t believe what I was looking at. Standing on top of the podium were four stuffed animals: a dog, a hawk, a cat, and a pig. Something was off about their appearance though. The right side of their bodies were white and had a cute and plush look with gaping toothless smiles. On the other hand, the left half of their bodies were black and they had a menacing grin on this side of their face. They each had a strange evil-looking red eye that seemed to radiate a twisted sort of evil.

Each stuffed animal had noticeable differences to their appearances as well. The dog had a tongue hanging out from the right side of his mouth and I could see his black and white tail wagging excitedly. The dog also had floppy ears like a beagle or basset hound. The hawk had downy feathers instead of plush fur and had a beak instead of a mouth. It wore a pair of dark tinted shades that only had one lens covering its right eye. The cat had long whiskers protruding from both sides of its face and long black and white tail. It also had pointed cat ears and retractable claws. The pig was round and portly and had a sleepy look on its face. One of its ears was curled up and it had hooves, a snout, and a curly tail.

“Damn. Now I know how Diddy must feel being trapped in a barrel all the time,” the dog complained. “What did you offer that lazy bastard anyway?” he asked, looking at the hawk.

“I offered him my secret stash of white chocolate if he broke us out of that infernal box,” the hawk replied.

“White chocolate…” the pig said in a lazy voice, his eyes looking glazed over with hunger.

What is this? Talking stuffed animals? How is this possible?

“What the hell are those things?” Capone asked. “They look like some damn Build-a Bear rejects.”

“Oooh!” Audrey exclaimed. “These talking plushies are, like, so cute! They’re just like Furb-”

“SHUT UP!” the dog snapped. “We’re not Build-a Bear rejects or some outdated 90’s fad. We’re the Wardens!”

Huh? Wardens? Do they mean…

“We’re highly advanced robotic stuffed animals who are in charge this place. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the hawk said, adjusting his lens.

“What’s going on here? What do you mean that you’re in charge of this place? What are you going to do to us?” I demanded.

“Yahaha! I LOVE your enthusiasm!” the cat cheered. “Let’s get this orientation started already! We’ve been waiting far too long.”

“Damn right,” the dog said. “It’s about fucking time we get down to business.” The dog cleared its throat. “Greetings, new prisoners. Welcome to Dangan Maximum Security Prison. I’m Monodog, the Head Warden of the prison. I’m the one in charge of running this place and keeping all of you bastards in line.”

“I’m Monohawk,” the hawk said. “I’m the Vice-Warden. I’m in charge of security and surveillance around here. Don’t try anything funny. I’ve got eyes like a hawk.”

“Yahaha! Great joke, Monohawk!” the cat laughed. “Anyway, I’m Monocat. I’m one of the other two Wardens. I’m in charge of maintaining the facilities here. I also run the prison supply shop.”

“Guess that just leaves me,” the pig said sleepily. “I’m Monopig, the last Warden. I’m in charge of the kitchen and cooking meals for all of you.” “Speaking of meals,” Monopig said, looking at Monohawk with an eager and hungry gaze.

“You’ll get your treat when we’re done with these bastards,” Monohawk said.

“Can I have some chocolate too?” Monocat asked.

“Of course not, you damn idiot,” Monohawk snapped. “You’re the one that got us trapped in that thing. Stupidity garners no reward.”

“Aw, come on. Pleeeeease? I haven’t had sweets in months. And that glutton will just-”

“SHUT UP!” Monodog roared. “EVERYBODY SHUT THE HELL UP!” Steam erupted from Monodog’s ears and I could tell he was about to freak out.

“Sir,” Monohawk said with a worried look. “You should calm down. You know what happens when you get too angry.”

“Yeah,” Monocat chimed. “Your anger gets…”  
A loud boom echoed through the Assembly Hall as Monodog exploded, leaving behind a pile of stuffing and mechanical parts.

“...explosive.”

“Beautiful. You can’t dream to emulate such beauty. The flash and the scattering machine parts. This is what art truly is,” Emile gushed as we all stared at Monodog’s remains.

“Hope you didn’t miss me too long!” Monodog shouted as he sprang up from the podium seemingly out of nowhere.

This isn’t possible. We just saw him explode into bits. How is he still alive?

“Huh? What happened?” Monopig asked. “I wasn’t looking. Could you do it again?”

“Sorry to lose my temper there, but it’s about damn time we move on to the important shit,” Monodog said. “Like I mentioned before, you’re at Dangan Maximum Security Prison. This place was built just for you sixteen bastards as a place for you to be held for your heinous crimes. We have state-of-the-art facilities sure to impress the shit out of you as well as programs that will help you better yourself for society.”

“The point of any prison is to rehabilitate inmates so they become functioning members of society once again,” Monohawk said.

 

“Once they’ve done the time for their crimes, they’re released back into the world, hopefully as reformed citizens,” Monocat chimed in.  
“Yup. Too bad you guys won’t see the outside world ever again,” Monopig said sleepily.

“Wait. What do you mean we won’t ever see the outside world again?” I asked Monopig. The only answer I got was a low snore as Monopig fell asleep once again.

“Ugh. Wake up, you lazy piece of shit,” Monodog said, slapping Monopig on the back of the head. “You can sleep when you’re dead,” he said with a chuckle.  
“Ow…”

“Monopig meant that you’re not going anywhere,” Monodog said to us. “You’ve all been given a life sentence and mandatory participation in the Inmate Reduction Program.”

“Can I explain this part? Can I? Can I? PLEASE?” Monocat begged.

“Why the hell not? Go for it.”

“Yay!” Monocat cheered. “The Inmate Reduction Program is an experimental program proposed by the government to reduce the number of inmates currently in prison. All of you are really lucky. You get to be our test subjects. You’ll determine the outcome and success of this program.”

“W-what do you mean?” Cang asked quietly. “Are you saying w-we’ll be deciding who to release from here?”

“Didn’t you fucking hear what I said earlier? You bastards have a lifetime sentence! There’s only one way to decide who will be released,” Monodog said with an angry growl.

“What way is that?” I asked, nervousness creeping into my voice.

“It’s very simple. All you have to do to escape this place is to kill somebody,” he said with a menacing gleam in his eyes.

“W-what?”

“Is this some sort of sick joke?” Alan shouted. “What are you talking about?”

“The Inmate Reduction Program is essentially a killing game,” Monohawk replied. “In order to escape this place, you have to kill one of your fellow inmates and not get caught.”

“Yep! You also have to survive through the Prison Trial and come out spotless! Ooh, I can’t WAIT until then!” Monocat cheered.

“What the hell’s a Prison Trial? Sounds like some sort of detective shit,” Leon grumbled.

“Every time a murder occurs, a Prison Trial will be held to find the culprit,” Monodog began.

“The Prison Trial is where you will debate about who the killer is and present your theories and evidence for who committed the crime,” Monohawk said icily.

“It’s basically a showdown between the killer, also known as the blackened, and the remaining prisoners, also known as the spotless,” Monocat continued.

“Afterwards, you’ll all vote for who you think the blackened is. The culprit will be decided by a majority vote. If you vote for the correct person as the blackened, then only the blackened will receive punishment. But if you vote for the wrong person, everyone else besides the blackened will be punished. Then, the blackened will be able to leave this place and the Inmate Reduction Program will be considered a success,” Monopig concluded.  
“Wow. I’m...actually impressed,” Monohawk commented. “How’d you stay focused for that long?”

“Huh? Focused on what?” Monopig asked.

“Never mind,” Monohawk groaned.

“Punishment? What sort of punishment do you mean?” Maisy asked. “Obviously, I could pay my way out of here on bail but you should tell us so the rest of these poor lowlives know what you mean.”

“A punishment is the same thing as an execution!” Monodog said, laughing at us.

“Hey! You can’t just give us the electric chair or that crap! That’s illegal in lots of states!” Ayla yelled.

“Yeah! Zat eez completely unethical!” Pierre chimed in.

“Electric chair? Lethal injection? That shit’s so boring. My punishments are exciting, spine-tingling, hanging-on-the-edge-of-your-seat thrills!” Monodog scoffed, ignoring their outbursts.

“I can’t wait to see what punishments we have in store. Maybe you’ll get flattened like a pancake. Maybe you’ll be ravaged by sharks. Maybe you’ll be stabbed through the head and ripped in two. Yahaha! I’m so excited just thinking about it!” Monocat squeaked with twisted joy.

“You can’t do this to us!” I yelled. “We’re friends! You can’t expect us to kill each other! We won’t do it!”

“Gahahaha! You really think you assholes are all friends?” Monodog sneered, howling with laughter. “That’s hilarious. You claim to be friends yet you guys barely know anything about each other. You don’t know the shit that makes each other tick. You don’t know what sort of fucked up things each of you has been through. You’re merely adversaries and fellow prisoners, nothing more. You want to delude yourself into thinking that everything will be all right just because you claim everyone is ‘friends’? You must be fucking retarded! I bet someone’s planning to commit a murder as we speak in order to save their own ass. If nobody makes a move, there’s always motives we can use to entice you bastards to off each other. You won’t think of each other as ‘friends’ once the Inmate Reduction Program truly begins and these halls fill with blood. I’ll be keeping my eye on you, Blake Dredige. I know you’ll keep me fucking entertained.” Monodog said menacingly. As he spoke, his eyes were fixated on me the whole time.

  
“There are more rules than what we just explained so make sure you read the Rules and Regulations section on your Prisoner Pad thoroughly. Those who fail to follow the rules will be punished and I don’t want to hear any excuses about not knowing a rule,” Monohawk stated.

  
“It’s already getting late so you bastards should head back to your cells, read the rules, and go to sleep. After all, your prison life starts tomorrow!” Monocat exclaimed.

  
“Let’s hope no one dies tonight. Otherwise, they’ll miss out on a delicious breakfast,” Monopig said with a yawn.

  
“BYE -BYE! TRY NOT TO DIE!” the Wardens called as they disappeared back to wherever they came from.

I gazed around the room nervously. The other prisoners had the same cautious and worried look in their eyes as I did. No one here would really commit a murder, right? But Monodog’s words still haunted me. He was right. We call each other “friends” yet we know almost nothing about each other. For all I knew, every single person here could be a cold-blooded killer and would eagerly kill again in order to escape this nightmarish place.

I walked out of the Assembly Hall, giving a nod to the others as I wished them a good night. I was alone in the halls as I started making my way back to my cell. There were a lot of mysteries surrounding our situation. Where exactly is Dangan Maximum Security Prison? Why would a prison be built just for sixteen people? Why were we chosen out of every other prisoner in America? Who’s controlling the Wardens and why? Who’s behind the Inmate Reduction Program? What purpose does this killing serve? Why does everyone else remember their crimes and I don’t? What crimes did I commit? Why was I brought here? These thoughts were swirling around my mind like a nightmarish stew of fear and doubt. I only knew one thing for certain. Once the first murder happened, nothing would be able to stop this game.  
“I vow to prevent a killing from happening. I won’t let Monodog have his way,” I said, squeezing my hands into fists. “I’ll protect everyone, no matter the cost.”

END OF PROLOGUE  
Remaining Prisoners: 16  
TO BE CONTINUED


	2. Chapter 1- Daily Life part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake and the other prisoners discuss what they know so far. Blake all becomes the unofficial leader of the group and wants everyone to work together as friends. But not everyone is willing to do so...

Chapter 1: Everybody’s New Prison Life

I sat on the bed in my cell and contemplated what had happened today so far. It was unthinkable to believe that a little less than two hours ago, my life was perfectly normal. Now, I’m trapped in some strange prison by a group of twisted stuffed animals who are forcing us to kill each other. Then again, was my life ever fine before I was forced into this situation? For all I know, I could be the most heinous criminal in the world. Is there anyone out there waiting for me? 

I can’t keep doing this, I thought. If I keep trying to think about my lost memories, I just might be tempted to kill someone.

I decided to take Monohawk’s advice and read the rules of the prison in order to take my mind off of things. I pulled my Prisoner Pad out of my pocket and turned it on. I selected the Rules and Regulations section from the main menu and started reading. The rules were as follows:

 

Inmates are required to live inside of Dangan Maximum Security Prison and get along with each other for the unforeseeable future.

When a murder occurs, all remaining prisoners must participate in the Prison Trial. Participation is mandatory and those who fail to participate will be punished.

If the killer, known as the blackened, is found guilty during the Prison Trial, they and they alone will be punished. 

If the incorrect person is chosen as the blackened, every prisoner except for the blackened will be punished instead. 

If the blackened survives the Prison Trial, they will be released from Dangan Maximum Security Prison and the Inmate Reduction Program will be deemed as complete. 

If the remaining prisoners survive the Prison Trial, the Inmate Reduction program will continue. 

The Inmate Reduction program will only be deemed as complete when there is one prisoner left standing. 

“Nighttime” is the designated hours for sleep from 10:00 pm to 7:00 am. Prisoners are free to roam around at night but the Assembly Hall and Mess Hall will be closed during this time. Prisoners who attempt to enter these areas during nighttime will be punished. 

Other areas may closed off during nighttime at any given time if the Wardens deem it necessary. 

The Mess Hall opens up at 6:45 a.m. Breakfast is from 6:45 to 7:45 daily. Dinner is from 8 p.m. to 9 p.m. Meals will only be served during these times so please try not to miss any meals.

Acts of violence against the Wardens are prohibited. Any prisoner who attempts such acts will be punished. 

Destruction or defacement of the prison grounds is strictly prohibited. Attempting to escape prison grounds will also result in punishment.

The Wardens will never directly get involved with a murder. 

Your Prisoner Pad is a very important and delicate item. If you lose it or break it, you will not receive a new one. 

A body discovery announcement will play when three or more prisoners discover a corpse. 

Prisoners are free to explore the prison at any time however they wish. 

Prisoners who violate any of these rules will be punished with extreme prejudice.

The Wardens may add new rules and regulations at any time if they deem it necessary. 

 

It seems as if the Wardens have our hands tied. We can’t lay a finger on them or try to escape unless we want to be punished, I thought. I shivered at Monocat’s cheerful and graphic descriptions of punishment. I also thought back to what Monodog had said during the welcoming ceremony. 

“You’re merely adversaries and fellow prisoners, nothing more. You want to delude yourself into thinking that everything will be all right just because you claim everyone is ‘friends’? You must be fucking retarded! I bet someone’s planning to commit a murder as we speak in order to save their own ass.”

Was Monodog right? Can we really call ourselves friends? Could one of us really be planning a murder right now? The thought seemed unlikely but not impossible. I wanted to believe in everyone. I wanted all of us to be friends and stand united against the Wardens. But the Inmate Reduction Program went against that ideology. And because of the rules, we can’t escape through normal means like digging a tunnel or knocking out the guards.

Suddenly, I heard a loud crackle of static as the monitor in my room flickered to life. The Wardens appeared on screen. They were sitting on a small red couch covered in multicolored polka dots. They were in a strange room that had a large stainglass window behind them and table with a small black lamp on the right side of the couch. The room had an eerie and pale lighting which made the room feel like I was staring at some sort of heavenly paradise.

That’s ironic considering the hellhole we’re in, I thought bitterly.

Monopig sat on the far left side of the couch while Monocat sat on the far right side of the couch. Monohawk and Monodog sat between them with Monohawk sitting next to Monopig and Monodog sitting next to Monocat.

“GREETINGS INMATES!” they called.

“This is an important announcement from the Dangan Maximum Security Broadcasting System,” Monohawk said.

“It’s now 10:00 p.m.!” Monocat chimed in. “The Assembly Hall and Mess Hall will now be closed. That means you guys can’t get any nighttime snacks.”

“Huh? Even me?” Monpig asked. 

“Fuck no!” Monodog yelled. “These assholes are the only ones not allowed in the Mess Hall at night. We can have all the snacks we want!”

“Why are we still here then?” Monocat asked. “There’s a big bowl of warm milk with my name on it! I can hear it calling to me! It’s saying ‘Monocat, I need someone to drink me. You’re my only hope!’”

“Let’s get out of here already. Those snacks won’t eat themselves!” Monopig said excitedly.

“BYE-BYE! TRY NOT TO DIE!”

With that. Monodog, Monocat and Monopig disappeared. Only Monohawk was left on the couch.

“Let’s all have a great first night here. Sweet dreams everyone,” Monohawk said with a sneer. Then, he vanished and the broadcast ended.

Guess it’s time for bed, I thought. I slipped under my covers and felt my eyes instantly grow heavy. I guess it’s been a long few stressful hours. Then, I felt myself drift off into a deep and heavy sleep.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monodog Theater

I’ve realized that stories are living creatures just like you and me. The author is like the heart and pumps blood and new life into the story. The words are the cells and each and every word the author types causes the story to grow and develop until it is a fully completed story.

Comments and feedback are like the self-esteem of the story. With positive feedback, the story can develop and grow and the author can address its weaknesses and improve upon it. With negative and hateful comments, a story might lose its will to live and will kill itself. 

Isn’t that what happens to a lot of stories though? The author gets a lot of hate and backlash for their work and the story dies, eventually being forgotten by everyone and is replaced by far better stories. Will this story kill itself from hate or a lack of comments? Fuck no! That’s because this story has cute and mascots like me. A story is complete garbage without a good mascot. In that case, any story without a mascot can just die right now.

I want to thank all of you dear readers who’ve given up their time to read that boring and drawn-out prologue. It’s the same sort of shit in every Danganronpa fanfic, isn’t it? The protagonist wakes up, they meet the assholes they’re trapped with and then the antagonist shows up, forcing them into a murder game. I hope you’ll stick around and enjoy the ride. The author would appreciate it. The story’s only gonna pick up from here. Gahahaha!  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*ding dong bing bong*

A loud chime rang throughout the prison and I snapped open my eyes.

“It’s morning already?” I grumbled as the monitor flickered to life again. This time, only Monohawk appeared on screen.

“Up and at ‘em inmates!” he called. “It’s 7:00 a.m. Time to start a brand new day of your new life. Unfortunately, the others couldn’t be here since Monodog and Monocat are in a food coma and Monopig is busy cooking for you bastards. I guess this is what happens when you get the munchies at night,” he remarked. “See you later,” he said as the monitor turned off.

Guess I should head to the Mess Hall with the others, I thought. We should discuss what we know so far and see if everyone’s on the same page.  
I opened my Prisoner Pad and checked the map. I located the Mess Hall and memorized the route I needed to take. I opened the cell door and looked at my surroundings a little more closely. Including my cell, there were a total of eight cells in the hallway, four on each side of the wall. The cells looked identical and I could only assume that the Male Prisoner Ward was where the male prisoners’ cells were. I heard the door from the cell next to my cell open and Alan emerged with a sleepy look on his face.

“Good morning, Blake,” he said with a yawn. “Did you sleep well?”

“I slept like a rock. I had a weird dream though. I dreamt that Monodog was talking to me in something called ‘Monodog Theater,’” I stated.

“Makes sense that you would fall asleep that quickly. I was out like a light too,” Alan said. “Considering the mess we’ve been through so far, I would say that sleep is the best possible thing right now. As for me, I had the best dream,” he said with a perverted grin. “I dreamed that I was back on the beautiful beaches of Hawaii taking pictures of the scenery and soaking up the sunlight. I had smoking hot babes pose for me and they clung to my arms like sexy ticks,” he shared. And then they dropped their panties and…”  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Alan and I walked to the Mess Hall together and talked a little bit to ease some of the tension we felt. Well, Alan was the one who talked most of the time and babbled on about his sexual dream and about his multiple trips to Hawaii to photograph the rare and exotic wildlife.

“...and that’s the story of how I photographed the endangered Hawaiian Hoary Bat,” he said, concluding his story. 

“That’s a pretty cool story,” I commented. “You must travel pretty often.”

“Yeah, I’ve been to over a dozen different countries to take photos for various magazines like National geographic. I’ll tell you more about my travels sometime,” Alan said.

Finally, we reached the Mess Hall doors and both became silent. We had no way of knowing who was waiting behind the doors and what could be happening. For all we knew, someone already committed a murder and there would be one less of us at breakfast. I took a deep breath and opened the doors.

The Mess Hall was a large and spacious room with a couple of tables and benches scattered around. There was a counter towards the back of the room with a window of space and I could see a large and well-stocked kitchen through the window. There was a large oval table in the center of the room and everyone was sitting there together, already eating their breakfast. The only exceptions was Mason who was sitting by himself a few tables away, mumbling to himself and nervously glancing at the others. 

I sighed in relief that everyone was still alive. Alan and I grabbed a tray and went to the counter to get breakfast. There was a heavenly smell coming from the kitchen and I saw Monopig dashing around the room. He was cooking pancakes on the stove and was holding a bowl of cooked eggs and mixing them around to make them nice and fluffy. There was sausage roasting on a grill and he ran around frantically, preparing the meal. We watched this feat for a few minutes, amazed that someone so lazy could have so much drive and motivation. 

Finally, Monopig’s work was done and he delivered two trays that each had a stack of pancakes with a mound of fluffy eggs and two sausage links on the side. The portly pig beamed with pride as he handed us our meal. 

“Today’s breakfast are pancakes cooked from scratch with a little bit of cinnamon and vanilla mixed in. There’s a fluffy whipped mozzarella cheese omelette and two links of slow-cooked sausages on the side,” he said, beaming with pride.

“Are these for you and Monohawk?” I asked him.

“Nope! They’re for you bastards. When it comes to food and cooking, I have an infinite amount of drive and passion. I can guarantee that you’ll eat like kings while you’re here,” Monopig stated. 

Alan and I took our trays and sat down at the table with everyone else. I sat down next to Leon and Liz while Alan sat down next to Ginger and started flirting with her. Capone rolled his eyes at the sight and Ayla and Cang were deep in a conversation about their lives. Everyone else was eating and chatting quietly with one another. 

“Ah, good morning Blake,” Rachnae said. “Don’t worry, you haven’t missed anything. We’ve been waiting for both of you to show up. It’s only fair that everyone’s here to discuss our situation.”

“At least we’ve had some time to enjoy this totes delish breakfast,” Audrey commented.

“Zis eez some of ze best food I have tasted in awhile. Perhaps I can learn zat pig’s secrets,” Pierre mused. 

“Okay, let’s cut the formality crap out of the way and get rocking and rolling already,” Leon said. “We’ve been waiting too long for you and Alan to show up.”

“Damn right,” Capone added. “I was impatient to the point of wanting to blow a bullet through someone’s brain if you guys didn’t show up.”

So, everyone shared their story of what they remember and how they got here. Although the reasons for being prisoners differed, one thing was common in everyone’s story. They all remember being put on trial for their crimes and a verdict being passed that pronounced them guilty. They were sentenced to serving time in prison and they seemingly blacked out after that. Then, they woke up in a cell here and we all knew the rest of the story.

That’s strange, I thought. It’s as if there’s a black hole where our memories should be. If we were all found guilty, it makes sense that we were sent here. But why can none of us remember arriving here? Why can’t we remember what happened after the verdict?  
“To tell you guys the truth, “ I said, “I don’t even remember my crimes or being arrested. I don’t even know the reason I’m here or what I’ve done to deserve jail time”

“Hmph. Seems to me like you’re just trying to hide something from us. It’s a little too convenient that you forgot everything,” Maisy proclaimed. “Then again, it’s natural for poor little plebeians like yourself to lie and cheat.”

“Isn’t that exactly what you did to make your fortune?” Serenity asked with an amused smirk.

“S-shut up,” she stammered. “At least I’m not a remorseless killer like you and that trigger-happy geezer.”

“What the hell did you say about me?” Capone asked, pulling out his pistol and pointing at Maisy. “I didn’t quite hear you. COuld you say that again?” He put his finger on the trigger and we heard a distinct click.

“Calm down now,” Rachnae said, trying to solve the problem. Let’s just take a few nice deep breaths. Breathe in and out, in and out, in and-”

“Screw that shit!” Capone snarled, cutting her off. “Don’t treat me like I’m one of your snot-nosed students!”

Rachnae simply glared at him and stayed silent. 

“I don’t give a shit what Blake did to deserve jail time,” Leon stated. Everyone turned to him with a surprised look. “I mean, the fact that he’s part of this fucking mess like the rest of us means that he’s done something to piss somebody off. Just because he doesn't remember much about what happened to him, that doesn’t mean he isn’t the same person we’ve known for the past few hours or so. He’s like an overprotective hen sitting on an egg.”

“Like, what does that mean?” Audrey asked.

“I get it. You’re saying that Blake is just trying to protect us all since he doesn’t want anyone to die,” Alan chimed in. “I agree with you. He makes a damn good leader.”

“Guys, I’m not a leader, you don’t have to-”

“Nonsense. You’re the best person here to keep everyone in line. I’ll cooperate with you,” Alan said.

“ME TOO!” Leon shouted, shredding on his guitar. “You’re one fucking rad guy with the decision-making skills of a band leader. I’d follow you to the depths of hell!”

“I-I’ll work with you too,” Liz said shyly. “That’s the most logical course of action.”

“I’ll, like, totes work together with everyone! The more the merrier!” Audrey laughed.

“I like a man with power. They show the most passion,” Ginger said in a seductive voice. “I’m in.”

“I-I’ll work with all of you,” Cáng said. “It’s my life’s purpose to listen to what others say.”

“If she’s in, then I’m in,” Ayla proclaimed. “Let’s show those damn stuffed animals that we won’t play their game!”

“Count me in too,” Rachnae added. “Together Everyone Achieves More. That’s what I’ve always taught my students.”

“I guess I will assist you too,” Pierre chimed in.

“I guess I’ll do what the group wants,” Serenity said.

“I hope you realize what you’re doing,” Emile said, staring at me with a cold and serious gaze. “You’re placing your trust in people who are almost complete strangers. You don’t know much about them and vice versa. Are you willing to take on the burden of another’s death if a murder actually does happen?”

“I-”  
“You don’t need to answer my question. I just want you to keep that in mind. I’ll work with you though,” Emile stated.

“Leave me out of your little circle,” Maisy snapped. “I’d rather die than work with poor and foolish losers like you. I only work with the elite class.”

“Count me out too,” Nara said. “Teamwork isn’t my thing. I won;t cause you any trouble though as long as you don’t piss me off? We clear?” Nara asked, leaning back in her chair.

“Fools! You’re all fools if you think I’ll work with you!” Mason shouted. I turned around in shock as I noticed him standing right behind me.

“You heard our conversation?” I asked him.

“Of course I did and you’re either insane or brainwashed by a nefarious group if you think I’ll work with any of you. For all I know, you could be members of the Illuminati, you could be aliens, you could be lizard people, you could be part of the atheists or the Catholics trying to undermine me and my religious beliefs. For all we know, one of us could be part of the group behind this mess!” he rambled. Then, Mason ran out of the room and I heard him mumbling about there being fluoride in the water here and how we were all crazy.

‘Hahahaha!” Capone bellowed. “That fool actually makes some sense. There very well could be a mastermind among us. Someone who’s running the Inmate Reduction Program and controlling the Wardens. I don’t trust any of you and that’s all I need to know. The only people I trust are myself and the Russo Family. Everyone else can rot in hell,” Capone proclaimed as he got up and stormed out of the Mess Hall.

“I-is he right?” Cáng wondered. “Is there really a mastermind among us?”

“GREETINGS INMATES!”

With that jingle, the Wardens appeared before us.

“I heard you bastards talking about some sort of mastermind,” Monodog said. “And I want you to know that there’s… no way in hell I’m telling you the answer!” he yelled, laughing his head off.

“You’re,like, leaving us hanging? That’s totes not cool,” Audrey commented.

“Who cares what you think? The boss isn’t going to throw you a bone just because you ask him too. Just know that his bite is worse than his bark so you shouldn’t piss him or any of us off with your stupid questions,” Monohawk snapped.

“Yeah, if you want answers, just Google them!” Monocat said, laughing at Monohawk’s puns. 

“Did you enjoy breakfast?” Monopig asked.

We all nodded in agreement.

“Good. I’m going to sleep.”

With that, Monopig closed his eyes and started snoring.

“Lazy piece of- oh forget it,” Monohawk muttered.

“Welp, we’ll be taking our leave now! There’s games to play, banter to be made, and days to be spent!” Monocat exclaimed.

“Hang on. I want to ask you guys a few questions first. How is that Monodog was able to pop up out of nowhere after we saw him get destroyed. What sort of punishment awaits us if we break one of your rules? Are we really free to explore the entire facility?” I asked.

“Good fucking god. You’re like a married woman yelling at her husband to do fifty fucking things at once. We’ll answer your questions one at a time,” Monodog complained. “First, I have multiple copies of myself so if one gets destroyed or I let my anger get the best of me, I can come back alive and kicking. Were you planning on killing little ol’ me?” Monodog asked mockingly.

“No, I was just curious. That’s all,” I responded.

“To answer your second question, we’ll shoot you to smithereens! We’ll rip your arms off and use them as backscratchers! We’ll burn you to a crisp and stomp on your ashes! All of these things can happen if you break a rule!” Monocat said cheerfully.

“If you break any rules, you have to answer to the head of discipline here. Trust me, you don’t want to meet him. He’s unbearable. If you follow the rules, you won't have to meet him,” Monohawk explained. 

“Yahaha! The puns keep on coming with you!” Monocat laughed. 

“Wait, does that mean that there’s a fifth Warden?” I asked. 

“To answer your third question,” Monodog said, ignoring me, “you are free to explore the entire prison. However, you bastards woke up ahead of schedule and not every area of the prison is ready yet. Consider it your own fucking fault! Gahahaha!”

“Wait. The rules say we can explore the entire prison freely yet parts of it are still closed for us? Isn’t that a little paradoxical?” Emile asked.

“Hell if I know. We’ve answered your questions so let us fucking be. If I were you, I would use this time to explore the areas open to you right now,” Monodog concluded.

“BYE-BYE! TRY NOT TO DIE!”

 

With that, the Wardens left, leaving Monopig still sleeping in place.

“Should we let them know zey forgot ze pig?” Pierre asked. 

“Nah, they’ll notice he’s missing. Or at the very least, that hawk will know he’s missing. That bird seems pretty perceptive,” Ayla commented.

“Alright, everyone.” I announced, standing up to address everyone still in the room. “Let’s split up and explore the prison. It’s currently 8:30. Let’s meet back here by noon to discuss what we’ve found.”

“I’ll be in my cell if you need me. I shouldn’t have to worry myself with such a menial task like all of you,” Maisy said condescendingly. She stormed out of the Mess Hall and I sighed with relief. At least she won’t be around to complain and be a bitch to us the whole time.

“What about you?” I asked, turning to Nara. “Will you come along with us?”

“Why not? It’s not like I have anything better to do. Maybe they have some drugs or something I can find and sell here,” she replied.

“That’s fine. Is everybody clear on the plan?” I asked. Everyone nodded their heads in agreement. “Good. Let’s see just what sort of hell awaits us here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The references from the last chapter are as follows:
> 
> 1\. Audrey's movie company Metro Gold Magic (MGM) is a reference to the movie company Metro-Goldwyn Mayer (also known as MGM).
> 
> 2\. Alan's "Helloooo nurse!" is a reference to the old cartoon Animaniacs (it was a running gag on the show).
> 
> 3\. Monodog references the Donkey Kong games when talking about Diddy being trapped in a barrel.
> 
> 4\. Audrey mentions Furies but Monolog cuts her off, calling them a 90s fad.
> 
> Unfortunately, nobody commented on the last chapter so there are no shout -outs :( There are two references hidden in this chapter.
> 
> I honestly love how this story is turning out. I apologize for the length of this chapter though. I'll try to make future chapters shorter. I hope you like the Monolog Theater too. It felt fun to mock the fandom and fan fiction in general a little bit.
> 
> As always, comment, bookmark, leave kudos, etc. and let me know what you think. I'm open to any feed back and constructive criticism.


	3. Chapter 1- Daily Life Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake and the others explore the prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole scene with Blake not knowing what Moxocoins were and the Wardens after explaining them is a little reference to a blunder on my part for not including that explanation in the previous chapter. Next chapter will feature two or three Free Time Events.

I pulled out my Prisoner pad and looked at the map.  A small red dot appeared on the screen in the Mess Hall and I assumed that the dot was my location.  I decided that I would check out the Assembly Hall first since there might be a few things that we missed there.  I looked around me and saw that everyone else had left to explore the area.  Monopig was still sleeping and snoring loudly.  I took a step towards the door and he snapped his eyes open.

 

“Huh?  What was that?  Why’d you wake me up, you bastard?” he mumbled sleepily.

 

“All I did was take a step towards the door,” I replied.

 

“Yeah, well, your footsteps were so loud,” he complained.  “I bet you could heard them all the way from space.”

 

_ Is everything a joke with them?  It gets really annoying sometimes. _

 

“Huh?  Where did the others go?  They left without me?” Monopig asked.

 

“Yes,” I sighed, facepalming in frustration.  “Why don’t you get out of here and join them?”

 

“Nah, I’d rather eat.  All that napping made me hungry,” he replied.

 

“But your nap was only a few minutes.  Why would you be hungry so- ugh, just forget it,” I groaned.  

 

“See you around!” he said as dashed into the kitchen at an astonishing speed.

 

_ Guess I should get going too.  I’ll start with the Assembly Hall.  I didn’t get a good look at it earlier.  Maybe there’s some clues about our situation there. _

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I reached the Assembly Hall, I saw that Ginger, Pierre, and Emile were all waiting there for me.

 

“Fancy seeing you here,” Emile said as he waved to me.  I approached the three of them and asked if they found anything yet.

 

“We were just about to start looking when you walked in,” Pierre said.  “Why don’t you join us?”

 

“Sure.  Let’s all take a look around separately and share what we find.  We’ll cover more ground that way,” I replied.

 

So, the four of us searched every square inch of the Assembly Hall.  About half an hour later, we were sitting in one of the rows of chairs and shared what we found.

 

“It appears that the stage is just an ordinary stage.  It’s no different than something you’d find in a high school auditorium or a play,” Emile shared.  “There was also that podium that the Wardens popped out of, but I didn’t see anything suspicious there.  There was something strange  that I found though.”

 

“Huh?  Something strange?”  Ginger asked.

 

“There was a huge monitor behind the curtains of the stage.  I assume that you all have monitors in your room,” he said.

 

We nodded our heads and he continued.

 

“This monitor looked as big as a movie screen.  I assume that it was installed so that the Wardens could call everyone here and display important announcements.”

 

“Zat makes sense.  There are hundreds of chairs here, meaning zat this eez really what the Wardens say it eez.  It’s an assembly hall,” Pierre stated.

 

“What doesn’t make sense is why there are hundreds of chairs and a huge monitor if there are only sixteen of us,” I said.  “Were there originally more prisoners here?”

 

“I don’t know about that but what I do know is that the Assembly Hall is open for public use.  There’s a clipboard by the entrance where you can sign up to reserve the Assembly Hall.  I guess we can use this place too,” Ginger shared.  “But why would you want to use this place?  It reminds of some white-washed Death Star.”

 

“Death what?” Pierre asked.

 

“N-nothing,” Ginger mumbled as she started blushing.  

 

“What did you find, Pierre?” I asked.  

 

“Sadly, nothing of importance.  Zeez whole place is like one big cathedral.  I half-expected to find some giant cross or a pulpit here.  Zeez place would make a nice restaurant though.  It has zee right atmosphere,” Pierre commented.

 

“I didn’t find anything important either,” I said with a sigh.  “I’ll see you guys around.  I’m going to explore some more.”

 

I parted ways with the three of them and took a look at my map.  I decided to skip the Male Prisoner Ward and Female Prisoner Ward since I assumed they were both the same.  I also decided to skip the communal restrooms since they were, well, bathrooms.

The map also showed a gym, a rec room, and something called the Rusty Handcuff.

_ Might as well see whatever this Rusty Handcuff thing is. _

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

With a name like the Rusty Handcuff, I shouldn’t have expected much from the place.  It was a small little stall set up in one of the hallways and the place reminded me of a newspaper stand.  There was a little flap for a door and I stepped inside.  There were shelves full of books, snacks, magazines, and even weapons like knives, guns, poison and there was even a shelf full of ammunition clips.  The most notable thing in the shop was a large and colorful prize machine that looked like that kind of machine you would find just about anywhere where you put in a quarter or two and get random junk in return.

 

“Hello!  Welcome to the Rusty Handcuff where we serve all of your needs!  Whether it’s a bag of chips, the latest issue of Playboy or a weapon to stab someone in the back, we’ve got it all!” Monocat squeaked as he suddenly appeared.

 

“Gah!” I shouted.  “Why are you here?” 

 

“Duh!  Don’t you remember?  I run this place!” he said.

 

“So, this is some sort of supply shop?” I asked him.

 

“Yep!  We sell pretty much everything here!  But our pride and joy is the Mono Mono Machine!  Just put in a Monocoin or two and spin the crank!  You can win all sorts of useless cra- I mean fabulous prizes!” he exclaimed.

 

“Huh?  What’s a Monocoin?” I said with a puzzled expression on my face.

 

“Yahaha!  Don’t play dumb, silly.  That’s Monopig’s job.  You know what Monocoins are!” he laughed.

 

“No, I don’t,  You never explained what Monocoins are.  What are you even talking about?” I told him.

 

“Uh-oh.  Monodog’s not gonna be happy when I told him that we missed something so important.  Oh well.  At least cats have nine lives!” Monocat said with a laugh as he disappeared.

 

I took one last look around the Rusty Handcuff.

 

_ Guess there’s nothing else important here.  I’ll check out the gym next. _

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The gym was all the way at the end of one of the hallways and there was a set of iron bars blocking anyone from continuing down the hall.  I guessed that the bars were there since it was one of the areas the Wardens hadn’t finished preparing yet.  As for the gym, there was a set of glass doors that led to the room.  I opened the doors and stepped inside.  The gym was a large open space with various workout equipment scattered throughout the room.  One corner of the room had a series of treadmills and exercise bikes.  There were various weights scattered around and a bench press machine in the center of the room.  It looked like a normal gym that you would see at a health club.

 

There, I saw Alan and Leon jogging on two of the treadmills, chatting with Dr. Serenity, Ayla, and Cang.  I waved to them and walked over to them.

 

“Looks like you two are having fun,” I said to Leon and Alan.

 

“Hell yeah!  We’ve developed the deepest bond that two men can possibly achieve.  We’re the fucking best of friends!” Leon shouted.

 

“Yep.  We’ve become exercise buddies,” Alan said with a smile.  “There’s nothing that brings two men closer together than exercise.”

 

“You know what would make us even better friends?” Leon asked him.

 

“No, you don’t mean-”

 

“Yep!  Let’s become fucking music bros!  Music is the second best way to build a friendship! “ Leon shouted.  “At least, that’s I thought with the Hell Raisers,” he said with a frown.

 

_ I’m glad people are trying to become friends with each other, but a friendship between these two… seems like a bit much. _

 

“Alright.  What have you guys found here?  Is there anything important?” I asked everyone.

 

Leon and Alan ignored my question and continued talking among themselves.

 

“There’s nothing really of interest here,” Serenity said.  “It’s just a normal gym.  I wonder why they even bothered to give us such nice facilities in the first place.  After all, we’re just sitting here waiting to die,” he sighed.

 

“Hey!  No one has a reason to die!” Ayla shouted at him.  “Everyone deserves a chance at life!  If there’s something you’re passionate about, then life is worth living!”

 

“I suppose you’re right about that.  However, seeing as everything I cherish is gone, I fall into the second category, don’t I?  I guess I’m the only one waiting to die,” Serenity said with a sorrowful expression.

 

“W-what did you lose?” Cang whispered in a quiet but curious voice.

 

“Doesn’t really concern any of you,” Serenity said cooly.  “Maybe I’ll tell you my sorrows someday but I’m not the kind of guy to burden others with my own troubles,” he concluded as he calmly walked away and left the gym.

 

“I- I guess he doesn’t want to talk about it,” Cang said.

 

“Who cares about him?” Ayla complained.  “Let’s get back on track already.”

 

“S-sorry.  I didn’t mean to speak out of turn.  I deserve to be punished for not knowing my place,” Cang lamented.

 

“Don’t be sorry!  It doesn’t matter what others think!  Live your life the way you want!  That’s why you came to America, right?” Ayla asked.

 

“Y-yeah,” Cang replied shyly.

 

“Anyways,” Ayla said, “Serenity pretty much summed this place up.  It looks like your average run-of-the-mill gym.  There’s a message posted by the doors that says the gym is open from 8 a.m. to 12 p.m.  Other than that, there’s nothing else to talk about.”

 

“So, we can come here to exercise after nighttime begins?” I asked.

 

“Guess so,” Ayla replied.  

 

“I still have another area to explore,” I said Ayla and Cang.  “Remind Alan and Leon that we’re meeting back up in the Mess Hall at 12:30.  If no one remind them, I have a feeling that they’ll just keeping running on those treadmills like hamsters on a wheel,” I joked wryly.  I waved goodbye to the two of them and made my way towards the Rec Room.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Rec Room looked a lot like a chess board.  The walls were painted with a black and white checkerboard pattern with white and black light jutting out of the walls of the room.  There were a few tables scattered around with four chairs at each one.  There was a rack full of magazines and a shelf with numerous board games.  The most impressive feature of the room was a bar style counter with a dealer’s mat that you would see at a casino.  There were decks of cards on the counter and I saw Audrey, Rachnae, and Nara sitting at the counter playing a game of Blackjack with Nara as the dealer.  Liz sat quietly to herself at one of the tables.

 

“Ah, hello Blake,” Rachane said as she saw me walk in.  “We were just about to start a new round.  You’re free to join us if you want.”

 

I sat down at an available stool and Nara shuffled the deck.  She each passed us two cards, one face down and one face up.

 

“So what did you guys find here?” I asked them.  My face up card was a three.  “Hit.”  Nara passed me another card face down.

 

“Nothing really important.  Apparently, we can use this room anytime we want,” Rachnae said.  “Perhaps we can have a group game night or something.  That would be a lot of fun.  Hit.”  Nara gave her another face down card.

 

“Yeah.  This place is, like, totes cool!  It’s like our own little lounge!  It’s like a casino room straight from a cruise ship, minus the puzzles and the mystery” Audrey said with a smile.  “Stay.”

 

“This takes me back to my early days of dealing,” Nara commented with wistful sigh.  She gave herself another card.

 

“You used to be a casino dealer?” Rachhnae asked her.

 

“Yeah, I used to be one.  But that’s a story for some other time.  I’m not the same person I used to be,” Nara said.  “Alright, turn over your cards.”

 

We all flipped over our facedown cards.  The cards I had were a three, a king, and a nine.  I groaned as I passed my cards back to Nara.  I was out.  Rachnae’s cards were a four, a five, and a seven.  Audrey’s cards were a jack, a four, and a six.  Nara’s cards were an eight, a king, and a three.  

 

“Read ‘em and weep,” she snickered as Audrey and Rachnae passed their cards back.

 

Audrey and Rachnae sighed in frustration and I got up and walked over to where Liz was sitting.

 

“What’s wrong? Not in the mood for cards?” I asked her.  Liz remained silent.  “You know, you don’t have to push yourself away from others.  Everyone here is a good person.  Well, except for Capone and Maisy.  And maybe Mason,” I added.

 

“I told you before.  I’m not exactly a social butterfly.  I’m used to not having any friends.  I’ve always been alone.  Always have always will.  I prefer to live my life as a recluse.  It’s easier that way,” she said.

 

“Look, I’m not asking you to completely burst out of your shell.  I’m just saying that you would be happier letting people into your life.  There are tons of people out there who would want to be your friend.  I know I do.”

 

Liz looked at me and blushed a little bit.

 

“Just consider the thought, alright?  You know where to find me if you change your mind,” I said.  I stood up and said goodbye to Liz and the others.  It was currently 12:15.  I decided to head to the Mess Hall and wait for everybody to arrive.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fifteen minutes passed and everybody, minus Capone, Mason, and Maisy arrived and sat down at one of the tables.  They all seemed to be in a cheerful mood.

 

“Alright.  Let’s share what we discovered,” I announced.

 

And so, everyone shared what they found.  I already knew all of this from visiting the areas myself but I payed attention nonetheless in case anyone said something that I missed.  

 

“Oh I forgot to mention something,” Nara said.  “I also used the bathroom during our investigation time.  That hawk showed up to inform me that the bathrooms are apparently communal bathrooms.  He also said that there are showers in both the men’s and women’s section of the bathroom and that the showers can be used from 7:00 a.m. to 8 p.m.”

 

“C-communal bathrooms?” Alan asked as his nose started to bleed.

 

“Sheesh, don’t be such a perv,” Ayla snapped, slapping him on the back of the head.

 

“What are these Monocoins?” Audrey asked.  “What do they do?”

 

“GREETINGS INMATES!”

 

With their signature greeting, the Wardens appeared in front of us.

 

“I’ll explain what Monocoins are,” Monodog said.  “We’re sorry we forgot to tell you bastards earlier but it was Monocat’s job to tell you.  God, I never thought I’d say those fucking words.  ‘I’m sorry.’  They’re so sickly and sappy I might hurl.”

 

“You’re lucky Monodog went easy on you,” Monohawk said to Monocat.  “It’s a good thing cats have nine lives.”

 

“Yep!  Now I only have eight lives left! Yahaha!” Monocat laughed.

 

“Anyways, you know how prisoners use cigarettes or beer cans and other shit as currency for the prison black market?  Well, we thought all of that shit would be too confusing so we decided to implement a currency of our own,” Monodog explained, pulling out a gold coin and showing it to us.  “This is a Monocoin, the currency here at Dangan Maximum Security Prison.  Ain’t it fucking beautiful?”

 

The coin was the size of a quarter and had an engraving of Monodog’s face on the front.  The back had an engraving of Monodog’s evil eyes with the words “In Dog We Trust”.

 

“That’s one name you could call it,” Leon muttered.

 

“These things can be used to buy things at our very own prison supply shop, The Rusty Handcuff.  I’m sure you already fucking knew that though.  We came here to give you some Monocoins.  Call it a weekly allowance or whatever you want,” Monodog said.

 

“Let’s make it rain!” Monocat shouted as he threw Monocoins up into the air.

 

“With wealth like this, you can buy all the snacks in the world and all the cozy blankets you want,” Monopig added.

 

Monodog handed us each twenty Monocoins and told us that he would give us more Monocoins each week and bonus Monocoins as a reward if we survived a Prison Trial.

 

“Don’t forget that there’s also Monocoins hidden all around the prison,” Monohawk said.  “If you come across any, finders keepers.”

 

“That’s all for now,” Monodog said.  “See you fuckers later!”

 

“Don’t forget that dinner’s at eight.  If you don’t show up, then  you don’t eat,” Monopig stated.

 

“BYE-BYE! TRY NOT TO DIE!”

 

The Wardens disappared, leaving us alone once again.  I thanked everyone for meeting here and told them that I would see them during dinner.  They all left the room and I considered what I should do next.

 

_ There’s a lot of time to kill before dinner.  I might as well see if anyone wants to hang out. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were two references in the previous chapter. The "Your my only hope line" from the nighttime announcement was an obvious reference to Star Wars. A smaller reference was Mason mumbling about fluoride since it's a common conspiracy that fluoride is used to control people's minds or placate them.


	4. Chapter 1- Daily Life Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter mostly just features a Free Time Event with Nara and Alan. I'm actually starting to like Nara more after writing this chapter. In addition, the other prisoners brief Capone, Maisy, and Mason on what they miss, some barbs are exchanged, Mason gives Blake some cryptic advice and the Wardens are just being themselves.

**Free Time**

 

I decided to head to the Rec Room and find somebody there to pass the time with.  I saw Mason sitting at one of the tables reading some sort of magazine with a UFO on it.  Ayla and Cang were sitting in one corner talking to each other with Cang nodding at whatever Ayla was saying.  Nara was sitting behind the counter, staring at the dealer mat wistfully.

 

_ She looks like she could use a playing partner.  I guess I could spend some time with her. _

 

“Hey,” I said, approaching the counter.

 

“What do you want?  I’m kind of busy,” she snapped.

 

“No need to get worked up.  I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out.  Maybe we could play some card games,” I replied.

 

“Sounds like fun,” Nara said with a twinkle in her eye.  “I gotta warn you though.  I’m an ace when it comes to cards.  Maybe I’ll show you a few tips and tricks.”

 

_ And so, Nara and I spent a few hours playing cards and making idle conversation.  She even taught me a few new card games.  I’m glad I didn’t place any bets.  She would have won all of my Monocoins at the rate she was winning. _

 

“Can I ask you a question, Nara?” I asked her.

 

“What do you want to know?”

 

“You said before that you were a casino dealer.  You must have had a fun time as a dealer.  I can see it in your eyes,” I said.  “Could you tell me a little bit more about it?”

 

“I don’t really like to talk about my past but I guess I could humor you,” she replied.  “You see, I’ve always been a card shark.  I learned poker, Blackjack, Shoot the Moon, and all sorts of other card games when I was a kid.  My parents and I used to play cards for hours on end late into the night.  Ten years ago, I was looking for work and found a job at Raj Mahal Casino in Las Vegas.  I became a card dealer there.  Every night, I would host hundreds of games and win most of them.  I soon became known as `’The Shark of Vegas’ because of my skills and luck with cards.  Pretty soon, people would flock to my table and place bets left and right in order to have a chance of winning against me.  It was a fun job.  I made a lot of money and was able to what I love.”

 

“That sounds amazing,” I commented.  “But what made you give that up?”

 

“Five years after I got a job there, the place went bankrupt and was shut down.  I found myself out of work and got into dealing with the second biggest industry in Las Vegas.,” she said with a sigh.

 

“Do you mean drugs?” I asked.

 

“Yep,” she sighed.  “This was fun.  Let’s play again sometime.  But don’t think this makes us friends or crap like that,” she remarked.  

 

“I know, I know,” I replied.  I stood up from the bench and waved goodbye to her.

 

_ It feels like I understand Nara a little bit better.  Maybe she’ll open up to me some more and we can become friends one day. _

 

I left the Rec Room and decided to kill some more time before dinner by heading to the gym.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I reached the gym, I saw Alan lifting the heavy barbells.  He saw me and called me over.

 

“Hey Blake,” he grunted.  “Could you help spot me?  I could use a partner.  These are pretty heavy.”

 

“Sure thing.  Maybe I could have a turn too.  It’s been awhile since I lifted weights.  I guess now is as good as anytime to get back into it.  We’re gonna be here for who knows how long,” I said.

 

_ Alan and I spent a few hours lifting weights and talking about weight lifting, photography, and our interests.  I feel like Alan and I became what he calls “exercise bros”. _

 

“I’ve got a question for you, Alan,” I stated.

 

“Go ahead.  If we’re friends, it makes sense that we should learn more about each other?  What do you want to know?” he asked.

 

“Why are you so obsessed with women?” I asked him.

 

“That’s a bit of a tough question.  That’s like asking Picasso why he Picassos or Leonardo Dicaprio why he Dicaprios.  It’s my art form,” he replied.

 

“Huh?  Your art?” 

 

“Yep, every artist has a specific subject they focus on.  As a photographer, my specialty is snapping pictures of women.  You see, I believe that women are the ones who truly made the world what it is today.  Think about it.  Without women, you and I wouldn’t be alive since there would be no one to bring us into the world,” Alan explained.

 

“I get it.  You see women as an important part of society,” I replied.

 

“Exactly.  You see, I believe that each and every woman has an innate inner beauty to them.  My photography tries to capture that radiance and glow.  Of course, it helps if the woman is beautiful on the outside with long legs, a tight waist, a firm ass, massive bouncy-”

 

“I get it,” I said, cutting him off.  “Is there any reason why you’re a pervert though?”

 

“That’ s a pretty blunt thing to say,” he said with a frown.  “But, it’s just the way I am.  I’m happy with who I am and don’t regret a thing.  Once you’ve seen the amount of panties I have, you never go back to a tame man’s lifestyle,” Alan replied.  

 

“And what about your other photography?  You told me about your trip to Hawaii before.  You must be pretty passionate about nature too,” I said.

 

“Well, that’s a good point. I-” Alan started as he glanced up at the clock.  “Holy crap.  It’s almost time for dinner!  Sorry, but we’ll have to cut this short.  I want to take a shower first and eat later.  I’ll see you later though,” Alan said as he dashed off.

 

_ It feels like I understand Alan a little bit better.  He definitely has an artist’s point of view, no matter how lecherous that view might be at times. _

 

It was currently 7:50 so I decided to take my leave as well.  I was feeling a little bit nervous though.  Maisy, Capone, and Mason would be there was well and I didn’t know how they would feel about missing out on the investigation.  I knew that they weren’t willing to work together with the rest of us but I still didn’t know where they stood in terms of our situation.  I knew that Maisy and Capone despised all of us.  As for Mason. He was just too paranoid and neurotic to trust any of us.  I decided that we would fill them in on what we learned during dinner and take it from there.  

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By 8:15, everyone was gathered in the Mess Hall and all dug into our meals.  We explained to Maisy and Capone what they missed.  Mason, who was sitting separately from everyone else, was listening to our conversation as well.

 

“Who cares about all of that shit if it doesn’t give us a way out of here?” Capone mumbled.  “I’d rather get back to the streets of NYC and raise some more hell.”

 

“Hmph.  Perhaps our lack of escape options means that the Wardens mean business.  Perhaps the only way to escape is to kill someone,” Maisy said ominously.

 

“We don’t know zat for certain,” Pierre said.  “All of those chairs in the Assembly Hall could mean that there used to be more prisoners here.  Zey could have broken out for all we know.”

 

“Hahaha!  You must,like, be an even bigger airhead than me! Yo dummy!  Even I remember that the Wardens said this place was built just for the sixteen of us,” Audrey giggled.

“She makes a point,” Nara stated.  “The Wardens did specify how many of us are here.”

 

“Who cares about your little exploration?” Maisy declared.  “What matters is that I have money again!  I’m rich once again!”

 

“Don’t you have the same fucking number of Monocoins as the rest of us?  You shouldn’t boast if you can’t back it up,” Leon commented.

 

“S-shut up, you loudmouthed rocker druggie!” she retorted.

 

Leon flew out of his seat and grabbed her by her shirt.

 

“Don’t you EVER call me a fucking druggie!  Don’t talk shit about people when you don’t know what they’ve been through!” Leon snarled.

 

“Everyone settle down,” Liz said.  We all turned to her in surprise.  She stared back with a blush.  “Sorry,” she mumbled as she tried to slink further in her seat.  

 

The rest of the meal was uneventful.  After we finished eating, we sat around the table and made small talk with each other.  Obviously, Capone, Maisy, and Mason kept to themselves, wanting nothing to do with us.  Surprisingly, Nara struck up a conversation with Emile, Rachnae, and Pierre.  The four of them talked about meeting in the Rec Room after the nighttime announcement for a few rounds of cards.  Eventually, it was 9:55 and everyone got up and left the Mess Hall.  As I was making my way up, Mason pulled on my arm and stopped me.

 

“There’s some sort of grand conspiracy going on here,” Mason mumbled to me.  “I know it.  The shadow government has ways of planting their members in places they don’t belong.  Be careful of who you trust,” he warned as he nervously ran away.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back in the comfort of my own cell, I thought about what Mason told me.

 

_ Why would he pull me aside like that if he doesn’t trust any of us?  Could it be that he trusts me?  He seems to know more about our situation than he lets on.  Is he right that there’s something far greater going one behind the scenes? _

 

A darker thought popped into my head.

 

_ Could he be the mastermind and the one controlling the Wardens? _

 

Speaking of the devil, the monitor in my room flickered to life and the Wardens delivered their nightly announcement.

 

“GREETINGS INMATES!” they called.

 

“This is an important announcement from the Dangan Maximum Security Broadcasting System,” Monohawk announced.

 

“It’s currently 10 p.m.  You should probably go to sleep.  I know I will,” Monopig said sleepily.  “I’m so tired I could-” Monopig began as he started snoring and fell asleep.

 

“Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite!” Monocat squeaked.

 

“Disclaimer: Dangan Maximum Security Prison does not have bedbugs.  Any and all claims towards bedbugs must be reported to the Wardens.  We will then send in Roscoe to sniff ‘em out and we’ll smoke ‘em out,” Monodog said in a rapid announcer-like way.

 

“Huh?  Where’s Roscoe?” Monocat asked.  “I would have known if he were here.  I have an inner radar for knowing where dogs are!”

 

“You idiot,” Monohawk said.  “Don’t you know how to make a reference?  Boss makes killer references.”

 

“Fuck yeah I do!  Now let’s leave!  I think there might actually be bedbugs here!” Monodog shouted.

 

“Gyah!” The other Wardens screamed.

 

“BYE-BYE! TRY NOT TO DIE!”

 

With that, the Wardens disappeared and the monitor went dark.  Ignoring their random comedy skit or whatever it was, I started thinking some more about Mason and what he said.  However, my brain had other plans as I soon drifted off into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the last chapter, Ginger makes an obvious reference to Star Wars. In addition, Audrey makes a direct reference to one of the rooms from 999: 9 Hours, Nine Persons, Nine Doors during their card game. If you have any feedback, negative or positive, let me know in the comments. If like the story, leave a comment or a kudo!


	5. Chapter 1- Daily Life Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wardens present the first motive and kickstart the Inmate Reduction Program. This chapter is shorter than the others since I didn't want it to be too long. The first murder should occur within the next two or three chapters so bear with me.

**Monodog Theater**

 

Do you know how they say that winners never cheat and cheaters never win?  That’s one big lie!  You see, the truth is that cheaters always win.  Yep, cheaters are everywhere in our society.  They exist in sports, colleges, businesses, and even politics.  All the people who get paid the big bucks are cheaters.

 

How do you become a winner by cheating?  You don’t get caught of course.  The old adage about cheaters never winning only applies to those who get caught.  It’s the cheaters that cheat without consequences who become the real victors.

 

Are you a professional athlete who takes steroids and has to pass a drug test?  Just use someone else's piss! Are you a college student who needs to pass an important exam?  Just beat the information out of the smartest kid in school!  The possibilities for cheating are endless so cheat whenever you want and however you want.

 

You’re probably wondering if I’m a cheater too.  Sadly, I’m no cheater.  I’ve gotta keep this game fair after all.  But I’m a winner in other ways.  There’s also the saying “If you had fun, you won.”  I’m having a fuck ton of fun watching these poor prisoners fight for their lives.  In that case, I guess I’m also a winner.  So, if you’re a cheater who has fun getting away with cheating, then you’re more of a winner than those honest and fair losers out there!  Gahahaha!

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*ding dong bing bong*

 

The wake-up chime rang out as the monitor flickered to life to display the morning announcement.

 

“UP AND AT ‘EM INMATES!” the Wardens called.

 

“It’s 7:00 a.m.,” Monohawk said.  “Everybody gather in the Assembly Hall for an important announcement.”

 

_Huh? An important announcement?_

 

“Yep-a-dee-doo dah!  We have a surprise for you!” Monocat added.

 

“So get your asses in gear and head straight to the Assembly Hall!” Monodog howled.  “I want all of you there in ten minutes.  Anyone who fails to show up will be severely punished.”

 

“Even I’m excited and I usually don’t care about these sort of things,” Monopig said.

 

“See you really soon!” the Wardens called as the monitor shut off.

 

_Monodog seemed really serious.  I wonder what they want._

 

So, I quickly brushed my teeth, threw on some fresh clothes, and threw the door to my cell open.  I sprinted all the way down to the Assembly Hall, not wanting to feel Monodog’s wrath for being late.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ten minutes later, everyone was gathered in the Assembly Hall and sitting in the first few rows of chairs.

 

“GREETINGS INMATES!”

 

WIth their greeting out of the way, the Wardens appeared on the stage but Monodog was missing.

 

“Hey  Where’s Boss?” Monohawk asked.

 

“He better not be raiding the kitchen and eating breakfast without us,” Monopig fumed.

 

“Who cares where he is?” Monocat said.  “We can make the announcement without him.”  Monocat cleared his throat and turned to face all of us.  “We’ve gathered you all here to-”

 

“THANK YOU, FUCK YOU! THE STAR HAS ARRIVED!” Monodog shouted as he jumped down from the ceiling and struck a flashy pose.

 

“Wowee!  Another great entrance!” Monocat squeaked, staring at Monodog in awe.

 

“I was worried that you wouldn’t show up,” Monohawk commented.

 

“I wouldn’t miss this moment for anything.  The look on these bastards’ faces will be priceless when we tell them our big news.  It’ll plunge these fuckers into despair!” Monodog said.  “Besides, what’s the point of making an grand entrance for a tense situation if you’re not gonna arrive with flashy style?”

 

“Get on with it!” Capone yelled.  “Your antics are fucking annoying!  If you have something to tell us, then do so already!”

 

“I agree!” Leon said.  “You’re wasting our fucking time.  Besides, I’m starving.  I just want some fucking breakfast.”

 

“Okay, okay, settle down.  We don’t want a prison riot on the third day, do we?” Monopig asked.

 

“Damn right we don’t,” Monohawk said.  “Why don’t we get things started?”

 

“Alright!” Monodog said, clapping his paws together.  “I gathered you all here for a special announcement.  Since it doesn't look like any of you will croak anytime soon, I’ve decided to give you all your first motive!”

 

“A motive? You can’t be serious!” Ayla yelled.

 

“Serious as Sam,” Monodog replied.  “Anyways, this motive will blow you the fuck away.  Ready for it?  Your motive is that whoever commits the first murder will regain their prison memories!  Gahahaha!  Isn’t that fucking great?”

 

“What do you mean by ‘prison memories?’” Serenity asked.

“It’s exactly as it sounds.  If you commit a successful murder and get away with it, we’ll give you back your memories of prison and how you got here,” Monohawk explained.

 

“You’re telling us that if we kill someone, we’ll regain all of the holes in our memories?” Maisy asked.

 

“Yep!  Who do you think took those memories to begin with?” Monocat laughed.

 

“You’re the ones who stole my memories!” I yelled at the Wardens.  “Why did you take my memories about my crimes and what I did before being sent here?”

 

“If we left those memories in your fucking head, then it would spoil all of our fun,” Monodog pouted.  “If you want all of your memories back, then just kill someone,” he added, glaring at me menacingly with his evil red eye.

 

“Never!  We’re all friends!  You can’t possibly expect us to kill someone!” I roared.

 

“I expected you would say that,” Monodog said.  “You’re so fucking predictable.  So, I’ve decided to put a time limit on this motive!”

 

“Huh? A time limit?” Alan asked.

 

“Yep!  This motive will only be available for 48 hours while supplies last!” Monocat said.

 

“It’s also a one-time deal, so first kill, first serve,” Monohawk smirked.

 

“Gahahaha!  Do you finally get it now?  Even if you decide to band together, you still can’t end the game.  Remember what the rules say.  Only one of you bastards can survive to the end!” Monodog laughed.

 

The other Wardens joined in and started laughing at us.  It was if if our misfortune and despair was a mere joke to them.  I clenched my fists in anger as I watched them.

 

“Have fun!” the Wardens said.

 

“BYE-BYE!  TRY NOT TO DIE!”

 

WIth that, the Wardens disappeared, leaving us in a state of utter despair.  We thought that if we worked together, then nothing bad would happen.  Now, it’s as if the Wardens are dangling a carrot and stick over our heads, waiting for someone to take the bait.  I looked around at everyone in the room.

 

_Anyone could be planning to commit a murder now.  With our lost memories as a reward, who wouldn't jump at the chance to kill someone?  There’s a dark cloud hanging over all of our heads.  If a murder really does happen now, I don’t think there’s any way to stop the oncoming storm from flooding us in a downpour of blood, despair, and distrust._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the last chapter, the Wardens mention Roscoe, the bedbug sniffing dog, which is a direct reference to the commercials from Bell Environmental. There are two references in this chapter. Remember, the first person to comment on what the references are to will receive a shout-out in the next chapter. Remember to like and comment if you think I'm doing a good job or if you have any feedback.
> 
> P.S. I had a lot of fun writing this Monodog Theater segment? Do you think I should keep writing them?


	6. Chapter 1- Daily Life Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, tensions start to run high and Blake regains one of his missing memories. The next chapter will be Free Time events and the chapter after that should be the last chapter before the Deadly Life starts.

“Well, we’re all screwed,” Nara bluntly stated.  “I don’t know about you guys but our situation just became a lot more fucked.”

 

“I agree with Cardshark over here,” Emile agreed.  “This new motive certainly makes it harder for us to trust one another.  Who’s to say someone won’t commit a murder within these two days to get their memories back?”

 

“Wait, what the hell did you just call me?” she said, glaring at him.

 

“Relax,” he replied nonchalantly.  “It’s just a nickname.  All people get nicknames in prison so I thought I would make one up for all of you.  You’re Cardshark because I’ve heard the way you play cards and I’d like to challenge you later.”

 

“Whatever,” Nara replied.  

 

“As for the rest of you, Alan’s nickname is Kodak, Serenity’s nickname is Ocelot like in that certain third person shooter series, Pierre’s nickname is Iron Chef, Audrey’s nickname is Hollywood, Ayla’s nickname is Street Smarts, Cang’s nickname is Cobra, Leon’s nickname is Axe, Rachane’s nickname is Mom, Capone’s nickname is Godfather, Maisy’s nickname is Bitchie Rich, Mason’s nickname is Mulder, Ginger’s nickname is Ginger and Cream, and Elizabeth’s nickname is, well, Liz.  Do ya like ‘em?” Emile asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

 

“Hahahahahaha!  Man, that’s a fucking hysterical nickname for Maisy!  It’s so true that I might die of laughter!” Leon shouted, doubling over with laughter.  

 

“If you died that way, we might have a prison trial,” Rachane said with a worried expression.

 

“You always know just what to say, Mom,” Alan replied, using her nickname.

 

Rachane only blushed and remained silent.

 

“I am NOT a bitch!” Maisy shrieked.  “You penniless lowlives wouldn’t know what wealth was if it bit you in the ass!” she spat venomously as she stormed out of the Assembly Hall.

“What about my nickname?” I asked Emile.

 

“I just haven’t thought of a nickname for you yet.  These sort of things take time to come naturally.  You’ve gotta earn a nickname, you know,” he replied.

 

“Forget about nicknames!  The time for murder is now!” Mason yelled.  “I won’t let any of you kill me!  For all I know, one of you could be with the Men in Black and want to kill me to shut me up!  Well, I won’t die!  The world will know about aliens someday!”

 

“Calm down, Mason,” Rachnae said.  “Everyone’s a little high-strung right now.  Just calm down and-”

 

Before she could finish her sentence, Mason pushed her out of the way and ran out of the doors.

 

“I-I kind of agree with Mason,” Ginger announced.  “I-I’m scared for what will happen next.  I’m scared for our futures, scared for my future.  There’ s a 1/15 chance of death for everyone here.  How can we not be freaking out?”

 

“Easy there, Ginger and Cream.  Everything will work out one way or another,” Emile said with a carefree smile.  

 

“You mean that either someone will commit a murder to claim the motive or that nobody will take the bait, right?” Serenity drawled.  

 

“Correct, Ocelot,” Emile smiled.  Man, you’re quicker on the draw than that Ocelot from that third person shooter gamer Metal Ge-”

 

“Are you really fine if this ends in someone’s death?” I asked Emile, interrupting him.

 

“It doesn’t matter to me if we’re down a person in two days time or if we’re all still alive and kicking,” Emile stated.  “What matters is that you’ll keep us strong regardless as our leader.”

 

“Hmph.  As far as I’m concerned, you assholes can suck it,” Capone grumbled.  “You’re not the boss of me, Blake.  Outta my way.”  He pulled out one of his revolver and pointed it at me.  I stepped away slowly as Capone chuckled and made his exit.

 

“Well, that guy’s a trigger-happy psycho jackass,” Leon commented.  “Doesn’t matter though. I’m gonna get something to eat.  Fucking starving.   Anyone else wanna come along?”

 

Ayla, Cang, Nara, Pierre, Alan, and Emile all followed him out of the room to the Mess Hall.  Everyone else waved goodbye to me walked away to do their own thing. Under normal circumstances, I would have followed them but there was a lump of worry and fear in my stomach.  It was if there some vile insect burrowing it's through my body and hollowing out my emotions, leaving behind nothing but fear and dread for what might happen.

 

_ Damn it.  Why is it so hard to stay calm around here?  I need to be level-headed and brave for everyone else’s sake. _

 

Instinctively, I grabbed the ratty old fedora on my head and held it in my hands.  I rubbed my fingers through the fabric and started feeling calmer.

 

_ Wait, why am I rubbing this old fedora through my fingers?  Where did it even come from anyway?  Why is it so special to me? _

 

Then, I felt a throbbing pain in my head.  Well, throbbing isn't the right word to describe how I felt then.  It was as if someone was stabbing a knife deeper and deeper into my skull.  The pain was unbearable.  I clutched my head and gritted my teeth, trying to endure the pain.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_ “Happy birthday Daddy! I made you a present!” _

 

_ A young girl held out a box wrapped with gold wrapping paper and a purple bow.  I tore off the paper and opened the box.  Inside it was a ratty old tan fedora made with felt and hand stitching. _

 

_ “I made it all by myself without any help from Mommy!” _

 

_ The girl smiled and laughed at me. _

 

_ “I love it, sweetie.  It’s perfect.  All of my friends will be so jealous,” I replied. _

 

_ “Whenever you feel scared or worried at your job, you can rub it with your fingers like this,” the girl said as she started rubbing the hat.  “When you rub it, you can think of me and it will be like I’m giving you a big hug!” _

 

_ “Thank you.  It’s perfect,” I said.  I put the fedora on.  “I’ll wear it every day.” _

 

_ “I knew you’d love it, Daddy!” the girl said as she ran up to me and gave me a big hug.  I hugged her back. _

 

_ “Thank you, Marguerite,” I murmured, giving her a big kiss on the head. _

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Then, the pain subsided.  I felt a wave of relief wash over me and I struggled to recollect my thoughts.  It seemed as if I regained one of my lost memories.  I remembered the whole story behind my hat.  My daughter gave it to me a few years ago for my birthday.  I remember that day so clearly now.  My daughter, Marguerite, sewed that hat for me all by herself without her mother.  I remember the look of joy in her eyes when I wore her gift for the first time and every day after that.  I still remember those words.

 

Although I remembered my daughter and her face, I couldn't remember anything else about my life.  My mind felt like a jigsaw puzzle.  There were still so many things I didn’t know. Who is her mother?  Do I even have a wife?  Is my wife dead?  Is my daughter dead?  Is she ok?  What did I do to be sent to prison?  What job did I have before coming here?  Why did the Wardens remove more of my memories than anyone else here?  Why did this memory return to me in the first place?  There were just too many questions and too few answers right now.  Besides, I had eleven other people to worry about and keep safe.

 

I rubbed the fabric of the fedora through my fingers once more and kissed the top of it.  “I love you, Marguerite,” I whispered.  “I don’t remember much about you or your mother, but I promise that I’ll return home safely.  I won’t leave you behind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this chapter is kind of short and lacking. I planned on having this after the Free Time Events but didn't want to keep anyone waiting too long for the next chapter so I decided to put this scene first. I like how the memory gives a bit of insight into Blake's life before the Inmate Reduction program. I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Remember to leave kudos and comment!
> 
> P.S. The references from last chapter are as follows:
> 
> 1\. Monocat's "Yep-a-dee-doo dah!" is a reference to the "Zip-a-dee-doo-dah" song from Disny's "Song of the South". You might recognize this song from Splash Mountain at Disney World.
> 
> 2\. "THANK YOU,FUCK YOU! THE STAR HAS ARRIVED!" is a reference to one of my favorite anime of all time, Baccano. The character who said this, Ladd Russo, is hands down an awesome character. I highly recommend watching Baccano one day.
> 
> There are four references within the chapter with Emile's nicknames. I'll give you one now since you probably won't get it.
> 
> Ginger and Cream is the name of a clothing store in Westwood and this was the first nickname I thought of before I wrote the chapter. Hence why it's Ginger's nickname.


	7. Chapter 1- Daily Life Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's a LONG overdue chapter. This chapter is just Blake buying some stuff from the Rusty Handcuff (and Monomono Machine), free time events, and a little bit of internal struggle at the very end. I love how Rachnae and Serenity's event turned out but I still feel Ginger's was somewhat weak. Let me know what you think. Two or three more chapters until the Deadly Life so PLEASE bear with me. Future updates will NOT be as slow or drawn out either.

I took a moment to calm myself down after the important memory I regained and returned to thinking in my usual analytical and worrisome way.  I knew this was news that I had to share with the rest of the group but I wasn’t sure how to deliver the news.  I knew that I had to delicately reveal my restored memory.  If I screwed up the explanation or failed to get everyone to understand, they would become distrustful of me and the whole group would fall apart.  Things would become even more chaotic without a sense of unity.  Whatever the potential outcome, I knew that telling everyone the truth would be better than hiding it.

 

A loud grumble broke me out of my thoughts and I realized that I was hungry.  I pulled out my Prisoner Pad and saw that the time was 8:00 a.m.   _ Damn it.  I missed breakfast.  Now what am I supposed to do? _

 

I decided that if I couldn’t get some breakfast, I might as well buy a snack from the Rusty Handcuff in order to tide me over until dinner.  I reached my hand into my pants pocket and felt around.  I had ten Monocoins in my pocket.   _ That should be enough. _  So, I exited the Assembly Hall and made my way to the Rusty Handcuff.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inside the Rusty Handcuff, I started to look around to find something to eat.  I noticed a little box in the corner of the little shop and decided to inspect it.  Inside the box were something called Monopig’s Breakfast Bars.  I took one out of the box and took a closer look.

 

The bar had a logo of Monopig’s face on it.  Puzzled, I took a look at the ingredients to see just what was in this thing.  I turned the bar over and the ingredients section read “It’s edible.  What more do you need?”  I sighed in annoyance as I took the breakfast bar to the counter.  There was a sign that read “Ring Bell For Purchases”.  I rang the bell and Monocat appeared.

 

“Yippee!  My very first customer!  To celebrate this special occasion, I’ll give you a free try on the Monomono Machine!  What do ya say?” Monocat asked.

 

“I’ll just take the bar.  I don’t really care about your glorified prize machine,” I said.  “How much is this?”

 

“Awwww.  You’re no fun.  Maybe you were arrested for killing all the fun,” Monocat mused.  “The bar is eight Monocoins.”

 

“WHAT?  That’s insane!  That’s highway robbery!  You can’t expect me to pay this much for a stupid breakfast bar!” I yelled.

 

“I think it’s a fair price,” Monocat replied optimistically.  “After all, we actually had to get Monopig off his ass and force him to work hard to create just a single box of his breakfast bars.  I think eight Monocoins is a lot cheaper than hours of infuriating labor  Besides, it’s already past breakfast so this as close to the most important meal of the day as you’ll get.”

 

“I guess that makes sense,” I mumbled.  I put the money on the counter.  “Here.  Take it.”

 

“Thank you very much!  I hope you’ll come back soon!  Tell your friends!  I hope to get business to be booming one day!” Monocat laughed.  “If you want, you’re still entitled to a free try from the Monomono Machine.  See ya later!”

 

With that, Monocat vanished and I was left holding my overpriced breakfast bar.  I unwrapped it and started nibbling on it.  It was honestly the best breakfast bar I ever had and seemed to be made with oats, brown sugar, cinnamon, sweet grains, bacon bits, and even a few small chunks of scrambled eggs.  It was a weird bar but enjoyable nonetheless.  I finished the bar in a few minutes and decided to check out the Monomono Machine.

 

I turned the crank of the Monomono Machine and a prize capsule popped out of the slot.  I opened the capsule and saw that the present was a traditional Native American dream catcher.  

_ That’s a weird prize.  I wonder what other things I can win from this. _  I placed a Monocoin into the coin slot this time and turned the crank.  Another capsule rolled out and inside of it was a makeup kit.  I put in my last Monocoin and turned the crank again.  This time, the prize was a mini chalkboard.   _ Again, weird prizes.  This was kind of cool though.  Maybe I can give these to people as gifts.   _

 

After finishing up with the Monomono Machine, I noticed that it was ten a.m.  I decided to find someone to hang out with and pass the time.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Free Time**

  
  


_ Let’s see.  I wonder who’s available to spend some time with.   _ After a few minutes of walking, I bumped into Ginger and she fell to the ground.

 

“Oh my.  I’m so sorry.  Are you okay?” I asked her.

 

“No problem.  I’ve dropped to my knees before, if you know what I mean,” she purred

 

I started blushing and she gave a little laugh.   _ I guess I could ask her if she wants to hang out. _

 

“Hey, do you wanna hang out?  We could get to know each other a little better,” I asked her.

 

“Oh, so you’re one of those sort of men?  I honestly didn’t peg you as the type to get to know women intimately like that,” she said.

 

“T-that’s not what I meant and you know it!  You’re making me look as bad as Alan!” I exclaimed.

 

“I know.  I was just teasing you.  It’s fun to mess with men sometimes.  They can be so easy to rile up.  I’ll hang out with you.  Let’s take a little walk around the prison.  I could use some exercise,” she said.

 

_ And so, Ginger and I walked around the prison a little bit and went to her room afterwards. _

 

“Here.  I won this from the Monomono Machine and thought you might like it,” I said, handing her the makeup kit.  

 

“Oh, it’s simply beautiful.  It’ll be nice to pretty myself up every now and then,” she replied.

 

“You really care about your looks, don’t you?” I asked her.

 

“Yeah.  I like to flaunt what I’ve got.  I’m not ashamed of how I look.  That’s just the way it is with prostitution,” she replied sadly.

 

“You said before that you became a prostitute to pay for college, right?”

 

“Yeah.  I’m studying to be a nurse.  Or at least, I  _ was _ until I was arrested for prostitution.  Heh.  They called me the ‘Runaway Bombshell.’  The state authorities even put a small bounty over my head,” she said.

 

“Wait.  Why would they put a bounty over your head for something like that?” I asked.

 

“It’s because I also robbed all of the men I slept with.  I not only made money from my services but I also made some extra cash stealing.  I needed all of the money I could get,” she explained.  “After all, I attended one of the most expensive and prestigious nursing schools in the country.  Tuition cost at least $35,000 a year, not including food, books, etc.”

 

“I see.  So you’ve been paying for your education with your body,” I said.  “How did you focus on school with all of that going on?”

 

“I’m a lot smarter than I look.  I’m one of the top in my class.  Of course, that doesn't mean much when you’re in your late twenties and everyone else is younger and less mature than you.  There aren't even any good college guys on campus.  I have a taste for mature men,” she said.  

 

“Why didn't you go to college when you were younger?  Wouldn’t that make more sense?”

 

“My parents didn’t have the money.  We were a poor working class family and I had to work twenty hours a week just so my parents could bring in enough income to support us each month.  But that’s okay.  At least now I’m chasing my dreams of becoming a nurse.  That’s all that matters,” Ginger explained.  

 

“But why prostitution?” I asked.

 

“Oh.  It's because I love attention.  I just can't get enough attention.  I love it when a man compliments my body or falls head over heels for me.  I feel like a princess.  It does help me hide my true self too,” she said.

 

“True self?  What do you-”

 

“I’m feeling kind of tired right now.  I’m going to take a nap.  But stop by anytime you want.  Maybe we could get to know each other on a… deeper level next time,” she whispered, clinging to my arm and caressing my cheek.  I started blushing furiously and she laughed.

 

“Just teasing.  God, I love doing that.  See you later,” she said as I exited her cell and she closed the door.

 

_ That was… fun, I guess.  What did Ginger mean by ‘her true self’?  Is there something  she doesn't want to tell me?  Whatever the case, I feel like I got to know her a little better. _

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As I walked out of the Female Prisoner Ward, I noticed a cell door open and saw Rachnae emerge from the cell.  

 

_ That must be Rachnae’s cell.  I guess she’s not busy right now.  Might as well see if she wants to hang out. _

 

“Hey Rachnae.  Wanna hang out?”

 

“That sounds wonderful.  I was planning on heading to the rec room and finding someone to play a game with.  You can come along with me,” she replied.

 

_ And so, Rachnae and I made our way to the rec room.  We spent an hour or two playing various board games, mainly ones meant for younger children.  Rachnae seemed to have fun, so I didn't mind.   _

 

“I thought you might like this,” I said, pulling out the mini chalkboard.  “I thought since you’re a teacher and all, you would appreciate a cute little gift like this.”

 

“Oh, I love it!” Rachnae cried.  “I know just where to put it in my cell.  It even came with a little box of chalk.”

 

“Could I ask you something?”

 

“Sure, ask me anything,” Rachnae replied.

 

“You mentioned your students before and how they’ve changed your life.  Are those kids really that important to you?” I asked.

 

“Yes.  My students mean the world to me.  They’ve taught me how to care for others and give them the love and guidance they need.  Learning from my students even helped save my relationship with my two sons,” she replied.

 

“Wait.  What happened with your-”

 

“One question at a time please.  It’s not nice to interrupt people,” Rahcane said in a motherly tone.  

 

“My bad.  Continue.”

 

“As I was saying,” Rachnae began, “I used to be a different person before becoming a teacher.  I was a bitter and cynical person.  I didn’t really show affection to my children when they were born and I was kind of distant and cold towards those I cared about.  I had a degree in business and in child education if business did not work out.  I worked at various businesses for years but always found the work lackluster and boring.  Fifteen years ago, I decided that I had enough and decided to quit my job.  Then, I found work at a local elementary school and taught kindergarten my first year there,” Rachnae explained.

 

“How did that go?  I assume it went well,” I commented.

 

“To tell you the truth, I hated kids when I first started working there.  I feel like a monster for saying that but it’s the truth.  The first week or so was hell for me.  The kids never seemed to sit still and it was always pretty loud.  But as I got to know my students, I warmed up to them and they seemed to adore me.  And I grew to adore them.  After my first year of teaching, I felt like a new person.  I felt as if I were a mother to these children.  And that’s the philosophy I’ve held onto all these years.  I treat my students and everyone I care about as if they were my own children and show them love and compassion no matter what may happen.  It’s funny, isn't it?  Being a mother to these kids allowed me to actually be a good mother to my own children?” Rachane said with a chuckle.

 

“And your kids must have turned out fine.  With someone like you as their mother, I’m sure they’ve become just as loving and caring as you,” I commented.

 

“Oh stop,” she said with a blush.  “They’re fine young gentlemen.  My sons are eighteen and twenty-four.”

 

“I see.  They’re adults now.”

 

“Yes, and they’re just- oh my!  Look at the time!” Rachane explained.  “I forgot that I was supposed to meet up with Ayla and Cang for some female bonding time!  I’m sorry but I have to go!  Let’s continue our conversation another time!” Rachane called as she jumped from her seat and ran out the rec room doors.

 

_ That was a lot of fun.  Still, I can’t shake the feeling that Rachane’s hiding something from us.  Might just be my imagination though.  I definitely feel like I got to know her a little bit better. _

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As I exited the rec room, I bumped into Serenity who walked right past me.  I waved to him but he seemed to ignore me entirely.

 

_ Even after knowing him for a day or two now, I still can't figure Dr. Serenity out.  He’s very self-loathing and spiteful towards criminals yet he seems to care for all of us.  And yet, he’s so reserved and quiet about his life that I hardly know anything about him besides the fact that he’s a contract killer whose wife and daughter left him.  I guess now is as good a time as any to get to know him a little better. _

 

“Hey Serenity,” I called to him.  “Let’s play some cards and talk a little bit.  We have quite a lot time to spare before dinner.”

 

“Why not?” he replied.  “It beats sitting in your cell alone.”

 

_ And so, I spent time in the rec room once again, this time playing some poker with Serenity and making small talk with him.  He was hesitant to talk about his life so I did most of the talking.  It seemed as if we both had fun though. _

 

“Here,” I said, handing him the dreamcatcher.  “I won this from the Monomono Machine and thought you  might like it.”

 

“It’s just wonderful.  At least I’ll be able to sleep at night knowing I have this to keep away my nightmares,” he drily remarked.

 

“So, I told you a little bit about my life.  Or at least, what I remember about myself.  Now it’s your turn to tell me something about yourself,” I stated.

 

“Why would you want to know anything about me?  I’m a criminal.  A lowlife who’s killed countless souls and has to live bearing the weight of the guilt of doing so.  I’m not really the type of person you want to know anything about,” he countered.

 

“Come on.  We’re friends, aren't we?  Isn't it better for us to know more about each other?” I asked him.

 

“I guess you’re right,” he sighed.  “Alright.  I’ll tell you a bit about myself.  I’m half Cherokee but was born and raised in the big city of New York.  My star sign is Libra and I celebrate every birthday with a trip to the bar.   Are you satisfied now?”

 

“Tell me something interesting.  I don’t really care too much about the little details,” I asked.

 

“Did you know I’m a pretty good singer?  My wife told me I had quite the voice.  I used to sing my daughter to sleep when she was just a little girl,” Serenity shared.

 

“You sing?  I never would have suspected that.  Do you have a band or something?”  I asked.

 

“Nope.  It’s just me, myself, and Irene.”

 

“I didn't know you were a Jim Carrey fan,” I snarkily remarked.

 

“Heh.  Good one.  My wife’s name is Irene.  She and I used to sing karaoke with each other at our favorite bar all the time.  We’d have a few glasses of wine and sing all of our sorrows away.  Now, things are different.  I just sing my heart out and let all of my feelings loose.  Music is a way for me to release all of my sadness and cope with the things I’ve done and the way I feel about myself,” Serenity said.

 

“Did you and Irene make a good duet?” I asked.

 

“The best you’ve ever heard.  But those days are gone.  I’d rather not talk about her- or my daughter- right now.  I don’t feel comfortable enough right now to tell you all of that,” Serenity lamented.

 

“Can you at least sing me something?  I’d love to hear you sing.”

 

“Anything for a friend, I suppose,” Serenity agreed.

 

_ And so, Dr. Serenity sang a song for me.  It was a song that he said reflected how he felt about his current situation and the loss of his wife and daughter in his life. _

 

****_Despair, the end of the world_  
I hear the rising phoenix in my dreams  
And the virgin child made her wish upon a star  
That night her mother talks no more  
  
Cape of Hope, the end of the dream  
A shiny fish splashes in a stream  
And the virgin child loses her heart and soul  
That night her mother's eyes see no more  
  
When the wind blows  
The virgin child's corpse sings a song  
Such a pretty melody, never heard before  
  
No more lullabies  
The virgin child, smiles from Hell

 

 

 

 

_ That was… beautiful.  There aren't really any other ways to describe what I just heard.  It was so melancholic yet symbolic of everything he felt and everything he seemed to stand for.  He sounded like an angel. _

 

“I have to admit that you’re a really good singer.  I didn't think you would be that good,” I commented.

 

“Everyone says that the first time they hear me sing,” Serenity said.

 

“Maybe you could talk to Leon about forming some sort of group with him.  I haven’t really heard him play yet but I’m sure he must be talented.  You two would make a great musical pair,” I commented.

 

“He’s a little too loud for my liking but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to see.  Thanks for the suggestion.  It’ll be nice to try to bond with someone and become more open.  I don’t wanna end up a bitter hothead like Capone or a loon like Mason,” Serenity remarked.  “I’ll see you around.”

 

With that, Serenity walked away and I was left alone in the rec room once again. 

 

_ It feels really weird to be in here again after I just left from spending time with Rachane.  No matter, it feels like I understand Serenity a little more now.  Hopefully, I can find out what happened between him and his wife one day that left him the broken man he is. _

  
  


Looking at the clock, I realized that there was still a few hours before dinner.  I decided to head back to my cell and plan my next move.  I needed to practice how I would deliver the news of my recovered memory.  If I screwed up, God knows what it might do to the group.  It could lead to everyone becoming distrustful of each other.  It could lead to people suspecting me of being the one behind the Inmate Reduction Program.  Or worse, my revelation could lead to the first murder and it would be all my fault.  Whatever I said to everyone, I knew that it could alter the very course of this game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are the references from the last chapter.
> 
> 1\. Alan's nickname, Kodak, is a technology company known for its photography products and those "pint your own photo" machines I see at my local CVS. The reason for this nickname should be obvious.
> 
> 2\. Dr. Serenity's nickname is a reference to Revolver Ocelot from the Metal Gear Solid series and Emile even points this out.
> 
> 3\. Capone's nickname is obviously referencing the movie Godfather. No explanation needed on the reason for his nickname.
> 
> 4\. Mason's nickname, Mulder, is a reference to Fox Mulder from the X-Files.
> 
> The song Serenity sings in this chapter is a song from one of my favorite games of all time called No More Heroes. The character from this game that I based Serenity off of sings this song and I thought it would be very fitting and impactful for Serenity to sing it too. The song is called The Virgin Child Makes Her Wish Without Feeling Anything and i highly recommend you look up the song and listen to it at least once.


	8. Chapter 1- Daily Life Part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things at dinner get chaotic and Blake reveals that one of his missing memories was restored.

“Everyone.  I have something to tell you,” I announced.  Everyone looked up from their meal and stared at me.  I took a deep breath and revealed my news.  “This morning, I regained one of my lost memories.  It was a memory of my daughter.   I have no idea how or why the Wardens took so many of my memories but-”

 

“You’re the mastermind.  You have to be.  There’s no other explanation,” Mason nervously mumbled to himself.    

 

“For once, I actually agree with your crackpot theories,” Capone said.  “After all, it makes sense that the mastermind would be the only one capable of restoring memories.  Besides, it always struck me as a little bit odd that you stepped up to become leader out of everyone else here.  It all seems a little too fucking convenient if you ask me.”

 

“That’s insane and you know it Capone.  You guys don’t actually believe him and Mason, right?” I asked, looking around at everyone else at the table.  Ayla and Rachnae both gave me frowns of disapproval and they quickly looked away from me.  Pierre and Nara glared angrily at me while Dr. Serenity sat there and shook his head.  Maisy sneered at me and gave an ugly smile that seemed to say, “I was right about you being unfit to lead, admit it”.  Ginger simply sat there and said nothing while Audrey looked away from me and started whistling happily.  As for Cang, her expression was covered by her mask but I assumed that she felt animosity towards me.  Others were more vocal in their feelings.

 

“You’re a fucking liar!” Leon spat.  “You say you want to be friends and claim that you won’t let a murder happen, but really you’re just plotting our downfall.  I bet you get off on watching us kill each other, you sick bastard.”

 

“While I wouldn’t use language quite like Leon, I agree that you’re a traitor,” Alan said with a grim expression on his face.  “I really thought you were my friend.  I guess I was wrong.  Maybe you pretended to be my friend so you could kill me without worry.  Perhaps I was meant to be the first victim,” he mused.

 

“Alan, I would never do that!  Guys, you have it all wrong!  I’m not-”

 

“Enough of this farce,” Emile cut in with his typical laid-back tone.  “If you’re the one behind this game, then just confess.  It’s no big deal.”

 

“Yeah, but-”

 

“Didn’t I tell you before that you need to be a strong leader?” Emile said, interrupting me again.  “You failed all of us and it’s time to own up to it.  It’s no big deal,” he said, waving his hands and brushing this whole ordeal aside as if it were nothing more than a nuisance to him.  

 

“Liz, back me up here,” I asked her.  The shy hacker simply stared at me with a look of sorrow and shame unlike any expression I’ve ever seen.  The look said it all.

 

“You’re a monster.  You wanted to be my friend and now I realize you’ve been betraying us this whole time?  I knew that people weren’t worth it.  I wanted to give you a chance but you blew it.  You can just go die,” she said darkly.

 

I stood in stunned silence.  I had never heard Liz talk this way nor had I ever imagined a recluse like her could feel so strongly about others.  

 

“N-no.  This can’t be,” I moaned.  “This can't be.”

 

“Oh, but it can!” Monodog yelled as the Wardens appeared.  “This is the best fucking show I’ve seen since WIcked!”

 

“This drama’s getting intense!  It’s like we’re witnessing a live recording of a Bravo reality show!” Monohawk said with a laugh.

 

“Yahaha!  Blake’s getting in trouble!  Blake’s getting in trouble!” Monocat taunted.

 

“Heh.  The utter despair in your face is sweeter than any chocolate I’ve ever eaten,” Monopig remarked.

 

“You’re damn right for once, Monopig.  This raw, delicious despair is far better than anything that could come from a motive!  It’s so human!  So real!  So fucking great!” Monodog said with an excited wag of his tail.  

 

“How does it feel knowing that you’re all alone now?”  Monohawk asked.  “You’ve got no one left to turn to and everyone hates your guts.  How’s that for a wake up call?

 

The Wardens began to laugh at my misfortune as everyone around me continued to express their hatred for me right now.  

 

“This can’t be! “ I cried.  “Guys!  It can’t end like this! No! NO!”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up in my bed in a cold sweat.  I realized that I must have fallen asleep after returning to my cell.  It appeared that the hell I just experienced was nothing more than a dream. Even so, why does still seem as if everyone is giving me those scornful looks?  I can still feel their icy stares of betrayal piercing through my heart like an arrow soaring through a target.  I could still hear Leon and Alan’s hateful jeers and Liz telling me to drop dead.  It felt as if this fantasy was my new reality and I shuddered at the thought.  I took out my Prisoner Pad and looked at the time.  It was currently 7:30.  I stood up from my my bed, fixed my clothes to make myself look more presentable, placed my fedora on my head, and walked out of my cell to go to the Mess Hall for dinner.  Regardless of whether I was ready or not, it was time for me to share my news and I hoped that what I experienced in my dream would be just that- a horrible dream.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time I reached the Mess Hall, everyone except for Mason was already sitting around the table eating dinner.  I grabbed a tray of food and sat down in an open seat next to Alan and Leon who were loudly engaged in a conversation.

 

“Hell yeah!  That’s a great idea!” Leon shouted.  “Let’s form a band together!  You and I could play guitar, we could find someone to be our singer, and I could try to find some drums or shit in the Rusty Handcuff for someone to play.  This will be great!”

 

“I didn’t know you played the guitar, Alan,” I commented.

 

“Yeah.  It’s something I do whenever I have spare time after my photography.  I originally started playing guitar because chicks dig a guy who can play music, but then I started playing for the fun of it,” Alan replied.

 

“Hell yeah!  Music is all about free-spirited creativity!  Your mind is a blank canvas and music is the paint the fills in the landscape!” Leon declared.

 

“Ooh!  Can you play the Halloween theme?  Or the Exorcist theme?” Audrey asked.

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Leon asked her.

 

“Wow, you’re, like, sooo dense.  You don’t know classic horror films?  Such a shame.  And Halloween is sooo good, especially with the killer going around and-”

 

“You might wanna dial it back a little there, Audrey,” Emile warned.  “Talking about murder when we’re trapped in a killing game kind of raises a few alarms.”

 

“Whatever,” Audrey sad with a sigh.  “You wouldn’t know a good horror movie if it stabbed you in the head.”

 

“Oh yeah?  Well, you wouldn't know good art if it blew up in your face,” Emile childishly retorted.

 

“Ugh.  Enough you two.  Can’t we just enjoy ze meal in peace?  You are ruining a delicious dinner,” Pierre said, glaring at both of them.

 

“You’re damn right!” Monopig called from the kitchen.

 

“I agree.  Can’t we just enjoy a nice and quiet meal?” Cang asked.  “Everyone's a little on edge and-”

 

“Screw that.  We should be free to spend this time however we want,” Nara complained.  “After all, we have no way of knowing whether one of us will actually go for the motive or not.  I don’t know about you but I’m milking every last second of the time limit for all it’s worth.”

“Never thought I’d say this, but I agree with you there.  I certainly won’t spend my potential last two days on earth taking orders from a bunch of bastards like you,” Capone stated.  “So shut your fucking mouth and let us be,” he snapped.

 

“I- I’m sorry,” Cang said as she stared at the ground.

 

“Hey!  Apologize to her!” Ayla yelled.  “Just because you’re some big shot mob boss, that doesn't mean you can treat people however the hell you like!  You’ve gotta give respect to earn respect!”

 

“Oh, shut up!” Capone barked.  “Every time you talk, it sounds like some sort of motivational speaker crap!”

 

“Why you-”

 

“That’s enough from everyone,” Liz shouted.  Everyone looked at her with a look of surprise.

 

“Thanks for speaking up,” Rachnae said.  “If you didn’t say something, who knows how this conversation would have continued.  That's what friends do for each other I suppose.”

 

“You see me as… as friend?” Liz asked.

 

“Of course we do,” I answered.  “I already told you that I wanted to be your friend and I think everyone else here feels the same.”

 

Maisy and Capone scoffed at my response.

 

“Well, almost everyone.”

 

“You’re right about that,” Nara added.  “A few days ago, I could have cared less about meeting any of you.  Now, I feel like I can trust you guys and let you into my life.  So, I’ve decided that I will cooperate with you guys after all.”

 

“Hmph.  I don’t care what you do, just as long as you keep your little drug bags away from me.  Seriously, it’s degrading for someone like me to be around a lowly drug peddler like yourself.  Not to mention drug addicts.  They’re even scummier.

 

“YOU BITCH!” Nara and Leon roared at the same time.  “HOW DARE YOU INSULT ME!”  Then, Nara and Leon engaged in a loud and vulgar shouting match with Maisy.  The former CEO tried to argue back but it was obvious to see that she was frightened of the situation and started retreating into her chair.

 

“SCREECH ALPHA!” 

 

Everyone covered their ears as Emile started shrieking like a banshee in order to break up the commotion.  The arguments stopped and Emile apologized.

 

“Sorry about that.  One of us had to shut them up,” he said with a laugh.

 

_ This is it.  It’s now or never. _

 

“Guys, I have something to tell you,” I announced.  “It’s really important that you listen and understand because- wait, where’s Mason?” I asked, interrupting my own train of thought.  “Has anyone seen him?”

 

“I haven’t seen him since this morning,” Pierre replied.  “You were saying?”

 

“Yes.  Right.  As I was saying, I have something important to tell you and I don't want you to lose trust in me.  Here goes.”  I took a deep breath.  “After we received the motive this morning and everyone left the Assembly Hall, I had a massive headache.  The pain was unbearable, as if someone was slicing my head open.  From that pain, I regained a memory of who I was before coming here.  I remembered that I had a daughter and that she gave me this as a gift one day for my birthday,” I explained, cupping my fedora in my hands.  “My daughter, Marguerite, is out there, waiting for me, for all I know,” I said, holding back my tears.  “If you guys think that's suspicious, go ahead.  I just wanted to let you guys know the truth.”

 

“Hahaha!  Man, that’s pretty funny,” Alan said as he burst out laughing.

 

“There’s nothing funny about a man holding back tears while thinking about his daughter,” Rachnae scolded.

 

“Yeah. It’s not very nice to laugh at a parent’s dedication towards their child,’ Serenity said with a dark scowl.

 

“My bad,” Alan apologized.  “I didn’t phrase it right.  I meant that it’s funny that you think we wouldn't trust you.  It’s not your fault the Wardens took most of your memories.  I’m happy you gained at least one of them back.  Hell, this even shows that you aren’t the mastermind, if there even is one.”

 

“That’s true,” Liz added.  “As you’ve said before, we’re your friends and you wouldn't do anything to hurt us on purpose.  We shouldn’t forget that.”

 

Everyone else besides Maisy and Capone nodded in agreement.

 

***ding dong bing bong***

 

Our conversation was interrupted as the monitor in the Mess Hall flickered to life and the Wardens appeared on the screen.

 

“GREETINGS INMATES!” they called.

 

“Are you happy to finally see us?” Monodog asked.  “I bet the readers are.  They can’t get enough of my adorable little face.”

 

“We already appeared earlier in this chapter, Boss,” Monohawk replied.  “The readers are just getting a double dose of us.”

 

“Yeah, but that was just in a dream.  Everyone knows that dream segments aren’t real though.  They’re about as real as a spray on tan,” Monocat mused.

“Huh?  What do you guys mean by readers?” Monopig asked sleepily.

 

“Haven’t you ever heard of a fourth wall break?” Monohawk asked.

 

“But, none of the walls here are broken.  The room is perfectly fine,” Monopig retorted.

 

“A fourth wall break is when- oh never mind.  You won’t understand anyway.  The only thing you understand is eating and napping.  Your mind is like a caveman’s thought process,” Monohawk replied.

 

“Gahahaha!  See you fuckers tomorrow!” Monodog said.

 

“BYE-BYE! TRY NOT TO DIE!”

 

The monitor clicked off and the Wardens disappeared.  Everyone stood up from the table except for Leon and Alan.

 

“Here you go,” Leon said to Alan.  “I’m giving you the spare key to the guitar trunk in my cell.  Come over and a take a guitar to practice whenever you want!  There’s no boundaries for bros!”

 

“Thanks.  This band’s going to be awesome!” Alan exclaimed as the two of them gave each other a manly hug then stood up to walk back to their cells.

 

I waved goodbye to everyone as I made my way back to my own cell.  Once there, I opened the door and flopped onto my bed.

 

_ Damn.  This day was stressful.  At least it’s over and everything's still fine.  I’m glad nothing has changed.  It feels as if there’s a huge weight lifted off of my chest. _

 

And with that weight gone, I floated off into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm getting a much better grasp on characterization and screen time for characters. I deserve a pat on the back for that. I know I keep saying this but the first murder will occur at the end of the next chapter. Deadly Life will begin the chapter after that, I promise. I also just realized that Ginger does not talk in this chapter. Whoops. I'll make up for that in the next chapter. Mason not appearing was not a mistake either. He'll appear in the next chapter. You'll see ;)
> 
> There was only one reference in the last chapter. The reference was the title of a Jim Carrey movie, Me, Myself, and Irene. There is one reference hidden in this chapter. Here's a hint: it has something to do with meisters and weapons. That's all I'll say.


	9. Chapter 1 Daily Life Part 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake and Mason have a deep conversation as Blake gets to understand Mason a little better and learns what Mason has been up to. I apologize for this but the next chapter will DEFINITELY be the last Daily Life chapter for Chapter 1. I decided to split up this chapter into two chapters (since I did;t want this chapter to be super long) and the next chapter will be posted within the week as soon as I finish it. The next chapter will be pretty long,much longer than this one, so be aware of that. I'm also trying to involve every character in some way in each chapter. I hope you enjoy that.

**Monodog Theater**

  
  


I don’t know about you guys but all of this waiting is fucking boring.  I know it’s only been a day since those bastards received their motive but feels like an eternity.  I bet you’re all waiting to see who will get axed too.  Sadly, it looks like we’ll both have to be patient.  But patience can be such a pain in the ass.  

 

They say that patience is a virtue.  Do I look like some sort of fucking virtuous saint?  Fuck no!  My patience is just like my temper: very short.  I can’t stay patient for much longer you know.  There’s only so long a person can wait.

 

Do you know how kids get so excited for Christmas in December?  They can’t wait for Santa to show up so they can get free presents.  Greedy little bastards.  They might only have to wait 25 days, but to them, that feels like a fucking eternity.  Glaciers might as well be moving faster than time in their little minds and they get so impatient and whiny.  I feel like one of those children right now.

 

My patience is at its end.  If no one will kill each other, then what's the point of having a killing game in the first place?  But, I’m just gonna hold my tongue and hope for the best.  I can yell and scream all I want, but murder all depends on what the inmates decide to do.  If I have to, I’ll wait for an entire millenium for the action to get started.  When it comes to waiting, Rip Van Winkle’s got nothing on me! --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

*ding dong bing bong*

 

The chime for the morning wake up call rang and I groggily sat up in my bed.  I rubbed the sleep away from my eyes and the monitor turned on for the Wardens to broadcast their morning announcement.  

 

“UP AND AT ‘EM INMATES!” they called.

 

“It’s 6:30 a.m.!  Say your prayers, make peace with God, do whatever the fuck you have to do because today is your last day on Earth!” Monodog said.

 

“Don’t you mean that today is the last day on Earth for only one of them?” Monohawk replied.

 

“Don’t you mean that today’s the last day on Earth for two of them?” Monocat retorted.  

 

“What the hell are you talking about?  Only one of them is going to die today,” Monohawk snapped.

 

“Nu-uh.  If there’s a murder, one of them will be punished and then we’ll have two dead bodies!  It’ll be so much fun!” Monocat said.

 

“But what if no one dies today?” Monopig mumbled.  “There’s a possibility of that.”

 

“SHUT UP!” Monodog yelled.  “Will they kill?  Won’t they kill?  It’s too much suspense!  If I have to wait any longer, I’ll-”

 

*BOOM*

 

“-explode,” Monohawk finished.

 

“BYE-BYE!  TRY NOT TO DIE!”

 

Then, the monitor turned off, signaling the start of the new day.

 

_ We’ll all live to see another day.  I refuse to let us play their twisted game. _

 

I climbed out of bed and stretched my arms out.  I walked over to the sink and washed my face.  I sniffed myself and put my fedora on, ready to start the day.

 

_ I really need a shower soon.  Maybe I’ll shower after breakfast.   _

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time I reached the assembly hall, everyone was already sitting at the table, digging into pancakes that Monopig cooked for us.  Even though everyone was here, some people looked like they were mentally somewhere else.  Ginger kept glancing around at all of us nervously, as if one of us would slit her throat at a moment’s notice.  Rachane was smiling as she made idle conversation with Nara, but I could see a strained and worried expression on her face.  Liz sat in her seat nervously and avoided eye contact with everyone else.  

 

I grabbed a tray of food and sat down in an empty seat next to Liz.  

 

“How did you sleep?” I asked her.

 

“Fine,” she replied nervously as she stared back down at her plate.

 

“Come on.  We’re friends.  There’s no need to be shy,” I said.

 

“I guess you’re right,” she said with a sigh.  “I didn’t get much sleep.  I’m worried that a murder might occur since it’s the last day of the time limit for the motive.  If only I could do something.  I could use my hacking skills to get us help from the outside world but I might end up breaking some sort of rule that way.”

 

“Hey.  Just do what you can do.  If all you can do in this situation is be brave and believe in everyone, then do it,” Ayla said to her.  “Doing something is better than doing nothing,”

 

“S-she’s right,” Cang stuttered.  “She always knows what to say to motivate people.

 

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Ayla said with a blush.  “I just have a lot of spirit from growing up on the streets.”

 

“Wow.  You, like, grew up on the streets?  How did that happen?” Audrey asked.

 

“I’ll tell ya some other time,” Ayla replied.  “I’m not in the mood to revisit those memories right now.”

“Indeed.  We do not need anything to kill ze mood.  If this eez to be my last meal, I want to enjoy it in peace,” Pierre added.  “These pancakes are perfect for a last meal.  The fluffy texture, the sweet aroma, the chewy and heavenly feel when you bite into them, the fresh ingredients, the hint of vanilla and cinnamon, these pancakes are divine!  I rate them three out of fours stars!” he gushed.

 

“You greedy pig.  You do realize that we still have dinner to eat too, right?” Maisy retorted.

 

“Ah, zat eez right.  We have two divine meals to enjoy!  I hope I can enjoy a little flesh if I might die tonight,” Pierre said with a hungry grin.

 

“Weirdo,” Maisy muttered.

 

“Dial it back a bit, Iron Chef,” Emile joked.  “We’re not death row inmates.  This isn’t our last meal.”

 

“Hey, speaking of last meals, Mason didn’t come to dinner last night,” I announced.  I looked over at Leon.  “Did he show up to breakfast yesterday?” I asked the rocker.

 

“He was a no show,” Leon said, strumming on his guitar a little.  “He’s more of a nutcase than I thought if he would skip out on breakfast.  It’s the most important meal of the day!  It gives you the energy you need to take on a rocking day!”

 

“Poor man.  He hasn't eaten in twenty-four hours.  I hope he isn’t starving to death,” Rachane said.

 

“If he wants starves, let him starve.  It’ll be one less person to deal with,” Capone complained.  “That’s what the bastard gets for locking himself away like a recluse.  God knows what he’s up to.  Knowing him, it’s bound to include flying saucers or some shit.”

 

“Try showing a little sympathy.  I’ve seen men reach their breaking point before,” Serenity sighed.  “Mason may be close to his limit and when he snaps, it won’t be pretty.”

 

“So?  That man looks as if he’s snapped like a fucking twig years ago!  He’s just being a paranoid coward right now,” Capone shouted.

 

“Oooh!  Or maybe he’s dead!” Audrey said with a ditzy smile.  “Freddy could’ve killed him in his dream!  Or he could have shot himself in the head, hung himself with rope, stabbed himself in chest, overdosed on pills, begged someone to-”

 

“Easy there, Hollywood.  Let’s not jump to conclusions.  I’m sure he’s fine,” Emile assured us.

 

“I don’t know.  I’m sure he’s not dead but I still feel like we should see what's going on with him,” Alan said.  “Even if he’s not planning to kill someone, it’s still a little suspicious that he’s locked himself away from all of us.”

 

“Let the fool be.  If he dies, he dies.  At least, I’ll still be here,” Maisy scoffed.

 

“That’s not reassuring at all!” Leon shouted.  “That just raises more damn questions about what the hell he might be doing!”

 

“Enough, Leon,” I said.  “I’ll take a tray of food to his cell and see how he’s doing.”

 

I quickly finished my own meal and approached the counter where there was still one tray left.  Monopig was eyeing it hungrily from the kitchen.  

 

“Could I take this tray to Mason?” I asked him.

 

“Do whatever you want,” Monopig mumbled.  “I could care less.  I make sixteen trays of food for every meal and those sixteen trays will be gone by the end of the meal.  Either he eats it or I’ll eat it.”

 

I thanked the lazy pig and hurried out the doors of the Mess Hall, saying that I’d meet up with everyone later.  Carrying the tray in my hands, I walked to the Male Prisoner’s Ward to speak with Mason in his cell, nervous since I had no idea what to expect from him.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

I gulped nervously and knocked on Mason’s cell door.  I heard no response.  I knocked again.  There was still no answer.

 

“Mason, are you okay in there?  I brought you some breakfast.”

 

Again, there was no response.  

 

“Mason,  you’re starting to worry me.  Are you alive?” I asked.  “Are you hurt?  What’s going on in-”

 

Suddenly, Mason opened the door and dragged me into his cell.  I screamed and he covered my mouth.  He glanced outside briefly then shut the door.

 

“Quiet!  Do you want everyone to hear you?” Mason asked, his voice trembling with fear.

 

“Everyone’s in the Mess Hall eating breakfast.  They won’t hear anything.  Calm down.  I just came here to bring you some breakfast and see how you were doing,” I explained.

 

He grabbed the tray from me and started wolfing down his food.  It was as if I was watching a rabid wolf devour its prey with more ferocity than I had ever seen.  Within minutes, Mason’s tray was empty and he had crumbs all over his stubbled face.  

 

“Thanks.  I needed that.  I haven’t taken a break to eat, drink, or sleep in twenty-four hours.  I’ve been far too busy,” Mason said.

 

“What?  What’s so so important that you’d deprive yourself of everything vital to survival?” I questioned him.  

 

“My research,” he mumbled.  I could see that he was trembling even more than usual.  He continued his explanation as his hands began to shake wildly.  “Yes, yes.  My research.  My research is far more important than my own life.  It could save us from this wretched place.”

“Research?  What are you talking about?” I asked him.

 

“Research.  Yes, research.  Research into a conspiracy far greater than one I have ever encountered.  I’ve studied the Lincoln Assassination, 9/11, Project MK-Ultra, and even extensive research that UFOS and aliens exist.  And aliens ARE real.  They live among us and hide among us.  Their ships are orbiting the planet as we speak.  But I’m getting off track, very much so,” Mason rambled in a frantic and worried tone.  “There’s a conspiracy behind the Inmate Reduction Program.  This killing game is far greater than I could have ever imagined.  There’s someone behind the game- no, some group behind it.  Someone’s controlling the Wardens from somewhere else.  As for why, I’m not sure.  Why use stuffed animals?  Why put on a farce like this?  If the prisons wanted to kill us off, why didn't they give us the electric chair or something like that?  Why the Inmate Reduction Program?  What purpose does it serve?  Is it for some shadow group’s own amusement?  Or is it something more?”

 

“Mason.  Calm down.  Why are you telling me all of this?” I asked.

 

“It’s because you’re the person I trust the most.  And I don't trust any of you one bit, so that’s saying something,” Mason explained.  “There’s one more thing you need to know though, but you can’t tell ANYONE about this.  If the Wardens find out that I know this, they might try to silence me.  I’ve had people try to kill me before, but this is different.  Please, don’t say a word to anyone, at least until I have enough evidence.”  At this point, Mason looked at me with the eyes of a madman.  I had never seen anyone more desperate and scared before so I answered without hesitation.

 

“I promise.  This isn't anything that concerns everyone else, right?  If it is, they have the right to know,” I demanded.

 

“It’s not.  It’s not, I swear.  At least, it’s not anyone’s concern yet,” Mason quickly answered.  He took a deep breath and continued.  “Remember what Monodog and the Wardens told us earlier when Cang brought up the idea of a mastermind?”  

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_ “I-is he right?” Cáng wondered.  “Is there really a mastermind among us?” _

  
  
  


_ “I heard you bastards talking about some sort of mastermind,” Monodog said.  “And I want you to know that there’s… no way in hell I’m telling you the answer!” he yelled, laughing his head off. _

 

_ “You’re,like, leaving us hanging?  That’s totes not cool,” Audrey commented. _

 

_ “Who cares what you think?  The boss isn’t going to throw you a bone just because you ask him too.  Just know that his bite is worse than his bark so you shouldn’t piss him or any of us off with your stupid questions,” Monohawk snapped. _

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I remember that conversation, but what does it have to do with your conspiracy?” I asked him, getting a little annoyed.  

 

“Monodog didn’t deny the fact that there’s a mastermind and Monohawk brushed off the question before any could ask them anything else.  It was then that I realized that there has to be a mastermind.  If there’s a game with such a scope as the Inmate Reduction Program there has to be someone running it from the inside.  The Wardens are merely here to maintain the prison and make sure everything goes according to plan.  I know for a fact that you and I are definitely not the mastermind.  That’s why I can trust you with this information,” Mason explained.  

 

“I see.  So there  _ is _ a mastermind behind this game.  But what makes you think I’m not the mastermind?” I asked him.

 

“Because of your missing memories.  I heard about the memory you recovered about your daughter as well.  If you were the mastermind, I highly doubt you would go through the trouble of erasing your memories of your crimes and all of that.  You might not be the mastermind, but you have an important role to play in all of this, a far greater role than any of us realize.  What that role is, I honestly have no idea.  There’s no evidence of any kind regarding that,” Mason shared.

 

“Okay.  Then who do you think the mastermind is?” I asked him.  “You must have some sort of theory about that.”

 

“It’s far too soon to be pointing fingers at anyone.  I don’t have much proof yet regarding the others and how likely it is that their the mastermind.  I’d have to say, at this point, that Maisy, Liz, and Alan could all be the mastermind.  That’s just based on what I’ve seen from them and how I feel about them though.  Remember, you can’t tell anyone about this.  If the others find out that there really is a mastermind, the mastermind will exploit this and be able to further turn us against each other,” Mason begged.  “Please don’t tell them.  I’ll tell them myself when I have enough evidence and can end this conspiracy once and for all.  I promise you that much.”

 

“Fine.  But what should I tell the others then?” I asked.

 

“Tell them that I was afraid someone would take the opportunity to kill me.  They already think I’m crazy enough.  They’ll buy that.  Besides, everyone else is afraid of the reaper looming over us here,” Mason concluded as he started pushing me out the door.  

 

“Sure.  Will you join us later?” I asked.

 

“I’ll think about.  Now get out.  I have more work to do.”

 

With that, Mason shoved me out of his cell and slammed the door shut.

 

_ Wow.  Who knew Mason was this determined?  I always pegged him for a nut who rambles on and on about conspiracies.  So that was the dedication of a conspiracist.  What he said was true though.  There has to be a mastermind among us running this game.  That’s the only explanation to all of this.  Still, I have to believe in everyone.  If I start to doubt people now without reason, things could fall apart.  Even so, I know that Mason doesn’t trust anyone here.  If he does anything rash, we’re all screwed. _

 

I took another second to realize that I wasn’t carrying his breakfast tray.

 

_ Great.  AND I forgot to take his tray back. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reference in the last chapter was to Soul Eater. There are no hidden references in this chapter.


	10. Chapter 1-Daily Life Part 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prisoners throw themselves a party and think that everything will be okay and that no one will commit a murder. But they didn't know just how wrong they would be...

After leaving Mason’s cell, I returned to the Mess Hall, only to find Leon sitting in one of the chairs, strumming on his guitar.  I could see Pierre, Ayla, and Cang in the kitchen, looking through the cabinets while Monopig watched them carefully.

 

“Where is everybody?” I asked.  “What are you guys up to?”

 

“Hey Blake,” Ayla called as she appeared in front of the behind the counter of the kitchen.  “Cang and I are looking around to find any fancy wines or drinks to bring to the party.  Pierre is taking a look at all of the ingredients in the kitchen to decide what to cook.”

 

“Huh?  What party?” I asked her.  “When is this taking place?”

 

“We’ve decided to throw a hell of a party!” Leon declared.  “We’ll have drinks, food, card games, and music all provided by me!  Hell yeah!  I’m so excited!  I can hardly wait for all of you to rock out!” he yelled, playing a few chords on h his guitar.  “I’ll even sing a little too.”

 

“When did you decide this?”

 

“W-we decided on it this morning,” Cang whispered meekly.

 

“Come on!  Say it louder!  You’ve gotta be more confident in yourself!” Ayla encouraged Cang.

 

“We decided to this m-morning to host it tonight.  We’re holding it in the rec room at six.  Monopig gave Pierre permission to cook us some wonderful food and you know that Leon said he’ll provide some music.  Ayla and I will bring the drinks and some snacks and Nara will host a poker tournament for all of us,” Cang said.  This time, her voice was louder and more bold and I saw Ayla smiling at her with approval.  I could have sworn that I saw Cang blushing underneath her mask.  

 

“Obviously, you are invited,” Pierre’s voice rang out from the kitchen.  “You could ask Mason to join if you want.  What has he been up to, by the way?”

 

Ayla, Cang. and Leon all turned to look at me.

 

“Uh, he was scared someone would try to kill him, she he locked himself in his room to prevent that from happening,” I quickly lied.

 

“Well, that’s all the more reason to have a party.  Living in constant fear of ‘maybe’ is like being a hypochondriac!  You’re too afraid of what might happen than what will happen,” Leon said.  “A party will give us the chance to become closer friends and put ourselves at ease.  Plus, I can get drunk off my ass and forget about this shitty place,” he added.

 

“Thanks for letting me know.  Is there anything I should bring?” I asked.

 

“We have everything covered.  We’ll see you at six,” Ayla replied.

 

“See you guys then.”

 

I left the Mes Hall and proceeded to the bathrooms to take a shower.

 

_ If we’re going to have a nice party, I might as well shower and dress nice. _

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taking a shower felt pretty nice.  I stripped off my clothes and wrapped a towel around my waist, letting the hot water run over me.  It was if washing away the dirt and grime from my skin also washed away all of my worries and fears.  I heard the sounds of a few other showers as well, and I assumed that other people were getting ready for the party too.

 

_ There’s nothing to worry about.  We’re going to have a party.  We’re all going to have a good time.  We’ll be reminded that we’re all friends and that there’s no need to kill each other.  No one will claim the motive. _

 

I turned off the water and dried myself off.  As I put my clothes back on, I saw a shirtless Alan emerging from another shower stall with his shirt, tie and towel in his hands.  He was dressed in his suit pants.  

 

“Hey Blake.  What’s up?  Is Mason doing well?  I’m kind of worried about him,” Alan said as he waved to me.

 

“Nothing much,” I answered as I finished pulling up my pants.  “Mason is fine.  He was just worried someone would kill him so he hid away to prevent that from happening.”

 

The lie felt bitter on my tongue and I tried to swallow the guilt I felt for lying to one of my friends again.  But, I had made a promise to Mason and I intended to keep that promise and not tell anyone about his current research.

 

“Ah.  That’s good to hear.  I feel kind of bad for him.  We’re all scared of death, but he has it much worse.  It must be terrible to live your life in constant fear of others like he does.  But as long as I’m here, I’ll protect everyone here.  You’ll help me as our leader, right?”  Alan looked at me with pleading eyes.

 

“Of course.  I’m not going to let  those damn stuffed animals do what they please.  I’ll do what it takes to keep us all safe,” I responded.  Since the conversation was getting a bit heavy, I decided to change the subject.  “Are you doing anything for the party?  I know that Pierre is cooking dinner for us, Leon is putting on a show, and Cang and Ayla are bringing some alcohol for us.  Oh, and Nara will be hosting a poker tournament.”

 

“Yeah.  I’m taking a group photo of all of us,” Alan shared as he put on his shirt and tied his tie.  “I’m going to take sixteen of them so we each have a photo to remember each other by.  After all, someone’s bound to find us here eventually and when help comes, we’ll be separated and most likely never see each other again.  That’s why I want each of us to have a photo to remember each other by.”  Alan took a deep breath and continued.  “Photos tell stories and preserve precious memories.  That’s why I’m a photographer.  I want to tell the stories of people who can’t tell their own stories.”  Alan’s gaze darkened.  “But what kind of photographer am I?  I’m just a pervert who likes taking pictures of women.  Sure, I take nature photographs, but they’re not my focus.  I’m just a failure.”

 

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up.  If you want to be a photographer who captures stories, you can start with capturing our story.  Once we get out of here, you can start a new photo career,” I said.

 

“Heh.  I guess you’re right.  I can’t get all gloomy today.  Today is a day to celebrate!” Alan replied.  He put his arm around my shoulder.  “You know what?  You’re a good friend, Blake,” he said with a smile.  

 

“Glad I could help.”

 

Then, we heard some quiet sobbing almost drowned out by the running water a few shower stalls over.  We walked towards the source of the noise and opened to door to see Ginger huddled in the corner crying dressed in her clothes.  The shower was still on and she was soaking wet, makeup running down her face as she cried.

 

“Holy- are you ok?” Alan asked her.  He crouched down and put his hand on her back.  She looked up at him and held back a sniffle.

 

“I-I’m fine.  There’s nothing to worry about,” she quickly replied.  For once, her voice didn’t have the seductive and silky tone it usually had.  She sounded… afraid.

 

“We’re your friends.  You can tell us if something’s wrong,” I said.

 

“I’m scared,” she stated.  “Is that what you want to hear?  I’m scared that someone will kill me.  In movies and shows about assassins and killers, people always go after the weakest link and I’m the weakest link here.  All I am is a tease who likes to flirt with men.  I’m not strong, I’m not fast, I don’t have any skills with weapons.  I’m weak and that weakness will get me killed.”  She started to cry again.

 

“It’s okay,” Alan said in a comforting voice.  “We’re all friends here.  No one is going to try to commit a murder, not when we have such a fun party to look forward to.  You are  _ not _ useless either.  Don’t think that about yourself.  You have medical skills, right?  In a place like this where we’re at each other’s throats, a nurse could really come in handy.  All of us are afraid to some degree.  Even if we don’t fear death, we still fear one of our friends being murdered.  Everything will turn out fine though.  Don’t worry.”

 

“T-thank you,” Ginger said.  “You really know how to make a woman feel better.”

 

“Well, I aim to please,” he said with a smile.

 

“Such a suave gentleman,” Ginger giggled.

 

Then, I saw Alan slowly move his hand down to her ass and internally sighed.

 

_ Some suave gentleman he is. _

 

“Will you be okay, Ginger?” I asked her. 

 

“I’ll be fine.  Alan’s here to comfort me,” she replied.

 

_ That’s what I’m afraid of.  Alan alone with a hot woman. _

 

“We’ll be fine,” Alan added.  “We’ll see you at the party.”

 

“Sure,” I said with a hint of unease in my voice.  “I’ll see you both then.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I now stood outside of Mason’s cell door.  I felt a little hesitant to invite him to the party but knocked on the door anyway.  He asked who was there and I told him.  He opened the door slightly and poked his head out.

 

“What?  What do you want?” he snapped.  “I’m busy.  You know that.  So why bother me at a time like this?”

 

“We’re all having a party in the rec room at six and I wanted to invite you,” I shared.

 

“No thanks.  I’m too busy with research and I don’t trust anyone here.  Why would I go to a party when I know that someone could spike my drink, poison my food, or do any number of other things to kill me off?” Mason ranted.

 

“Come on.  You can’t hide away forever.  People are getting worried about you.  Alan was scared you died and Rachnae felt bad for you.  You should at least try to show up.  It’ll be a fun way to take our minds off of our situation,” I said.

 

“Fine, fine.  I’ll be there.  Now leave,” Mason said as he closed his cell door.

 

_ That went better than I expected. _

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Many hours passed since I talked to Leon, Ayla, and Cang and it was currently six p.m.  I spent the rest of the day resting in my room, trying to calm myself down.  I was still stressed about the whole situation and worried about the time limit for the motive.  Although I put on a brave face and tried to believe that none of us would be tempted by the promise of restoring our memories, I still had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind.  I shook it away and found myself standing outside of the rec room, ready for the party.  I opened the doors and stepped inside.

 

The rec room looked completely different than the last time I was here.  The black and white checkerboard walls were covered with silver stars and the lights were covered with colored filters, causing the lights to glow different colors.  One of the tables had an amp set up on top of it and Leon sat in one of the chairs strumming his guitar to warm up.  The casino table had a few miniature spotlight hanging from the ceiling nearby to give the area a more dramatic feel.  There bottles of wine and other beverages sitting on another one of the tables.  A white tablecloth was placed over every table as well, giving off a certain air of sophistication.  I was in awe about how much effort it must have taken to decorate the room like this.  Almost everyone was already waiting for me.  Even Mason was there and I could see Capione making small talk with Serenity as well as Maisy talking to Nara in a polite way (a first for her).

 

“Wow.  I have to say, this place looks really nice.  Who decorated?” I asked.

  
  


“Hey Blake.  Glad you showed up.  I decorated this place myself,” Ayla said as she approached me at the door.  

 

“Really?  How much did it cost you?  You must have used up all of your Monocoins,” I commented.

 

“Nah, I just had all of this stuff on me,” she replied nonchalantly.

 

“You had ALL of this stuff on you?  How?”

 

“I told you when me first met.  I’m a black market dealer.  I’m capable of getting anything for anyone.  I can't tell you how though.  A black market dealer never reveals their secrets,” she said.

 

“Isn’t it a magician that never reveals their secrets?”

 

“Huh?  Whatever,” she replied as she led me to one of the tables.  “Help yourself to as much wine as you want.  Hell, you could drunk off your ass if you wanted to.  Monopig said he didn’t care if we used up his wine supply,” Ayla said.  “Oh, and Pierre will be here soon with the food.  I’m not sure what he cooked, but I’m sure it’s going to be amazing.”

 

_ I hope it doesn't contain any human flesh. _

 

“All right!  Let’s get this party started!” Ayla declared.

 

“Hell yeah!  TIme for my performance!” Leon yelled.  Leon started playing and the party officially started.

 

And so, the party began and I have to say that it was one of the best parties I've ever been to.  It’s still one of my favorite memories of Dangan Maximum Security Prison and I’ll always remember this night.  

 

The first two hours or so consisted of alcohol and gambling.  Nara hosted the poker tournament and everyone participated with glee.  Unfortunately, I lost in the first round, but watched as Nara, Emile, Maisy, and Cang make it to the finals.  Ayla cheered on Cang as the rest of us watched in somewhat drunken awe.  Maisy ended up winning the tournament and she seemed genuinely happy.  Everyone raised their glass and cheered and she thanked us with actual kindness in her voice (I wasn’t sure if she was trying to be nice or if it was the wine).  

 

Leon played his guitar the whole time and he gave us an opportunity to make requests for songs after the poker tournament.  Leon’s skills honestly amazed me, considering that he was a guitarist in a B-grade rock band.  He played a lot of rock and metal, but he played a few soulful and sorrowful songs with such ease that I was amazed that he of all people could play something so mellow.  I clapped and compliment dhis playing and he gave me a big smile.  I could see Mason smiling and even dancing a little to Leon’s music.  Alan and Ginger were watching him with amused expressions on their faces as Ginger whispered something to him.  Audrey was happily singing along to the songs he played (even though she made the lyrics up)  while Capone sat in a chair and groaned at the display.  Even Maisy enjoyed the concert and asked Leon to play a country song for her.

 

It was 9 pm when Pierre finally showed up.  He rolled in a trolley cart full of dishes.  There was a huge roasted ham, potatoes au gratin, a veggie casserole, and many other fancy dishes.

 

“Be my guest, be my guest.  Put my service to ze test,” he sang as he pushed the cart from table to table and unloaded the food.  Once that was done, he grabbed a wine glass, poured himself a glass, chugged it down, and announced, “Dinner is served!”

 

Everyone grabbed a plate and started eating.  The food was simply delicious.  Pierre really wasn’t lying when he said he was a world class chef.  It looked like everyone else enjoyed his cooking and they praised him with compliment after compliment.

 

“I have to say, this really  _ is  _ splendid.  Even my private chefs at my mansion can’t cook this well!” Maisy said.  “You might not have money like I do, but you’re certainly rich with experience.”

 

“Yeah.  This is mighty fine.  It’s better than anything I’ve ever ordered in a restaurant,” Serenity added.

 

“I’m glad you like it.  It could have been even more special but SOMEBODy said I could not include any flesh in these dishes,” Pierre replied, casting an angry glare at Ayla.

 

“Hey!  Don’t blame me!  No one would have wanted to eat your food otherwise if they were made with human meat,” Ayla retorted.

 

“Shut up already,” Capone shouted.  “I just wanna drink some more and have some peace and quiet so shut the hell up.”  It was clear that he was drunk and the two of them stopped bickering, not wanting to incur his wrath.  

 

The party continued on for another hour and we drank and ate to our heart’s content.  I had a few glasses myself and was starting to feel a little tipsy when a loud chime rang out across the room, spoiling the fun.

 

*ding dong bing bong*

 

The monitor in the rec room turned on the Wardens broadcasted their night time announcement.

 

“GREETINGS INMATES!” they called.

 

“It’s 10 p.m.  Sorry to spoil the fun, but it’s time for bed.  Just kidding!  You assholes should regret not inviting us!” Monohawk snapped.

 

“Yeah, we’re real party animals,” Monocat said, laughing at his own pun.

 

“Damn it, Monocat!  Puns are my thing!” Monohawk said.

 

“Whoops.  Sorry,” Monocat replied sheepishly.

 

“Can we get this over with?” Monodog grumbled.  “It’s boring to broadcast something that isn’t a Body Discovery Announcement so close to the time limit.  These bastards haven’t even spent the last day of the time limit attempting to kill each other.  Oh well.  Guess no one is getting their memories back tomorrow!”

 

“Please make sure to return all of the plates, forks, knives, and everything else you took from the kitchen.  I’ll be waiting for you there,” Monopig said with a yawn.

 

“BYE-BYE!  TRY NOT TO DIE!”

 

With that, the announcement ended and the monitor shut off.

 

“Wait a minute.  Before we go, there’s something I want to do first,” Alan announced.  He pulled out a large old-fashioned camera with a wide lens and one of those shutter flashes.  He dragged a camera stand out from a corner of the room and placed the camera on top of it.  “I want to take a group picture so we can all remember this night forever.”

 

“Wait, if this is a group picture, how are you going to get in the frame if you’re going to take it?” Audrey asked.

 

“With this,” Alan replied.  He pulled out a long rod and said that he would use it to press the button on the camera and take the picture.  “Okay, let’s get into position.  I’ll take one for each of us”

 

Everyone huddled together and Alan pressed the rod onto the shutter button and the camera took our picture.  He repeated this process fifteen times and sixteen black photographs slid out of the camera.

 

“That’s it?  Seems pretty lame,” Emile commented.  “I expected better from you, Kodak.”

 

“They’re instant photos.  I have to shake them for the photo to develop,” Alan replied.

 

Alan shook the photos vigorously and handed one of them to each of us.  The developed photo was absolutely beautiful.  It’s something that I would always remember and I still hang onto the photograph to this day.  Mason was standing in the back row giving a nervous yet happy smile and Ayla and Cang were standing next to him.  Ayla had her arm draped around Cang with a huge grin on her face and Cang seemed to be happy underneath her mask.  In the middle row, I stood next to Liz and she gave an awkward and shy smile.  Leon stood proudly with a drunken expression on his face as he posed with his guitar, cradling it as if it were his own child.  Audrey jumped in the air and posed, giving off a childishly happy and ditzy vibe.  Emile smiled wide, his hands in his pockets as he look right at the camera.  Alan and Ginger stood next to each other.  One of Alan’s hands was pointed towards the camera to take the picture while his other hand was out of sight.  Judging from the perverted grin on his face, it looked as if he was groping Ginger.  Ginger looked at him with a flirtatious smile and a wink.  In the front row, Serenity looked very somber and grim, giving only the faintest of smiles.  Rachnae tried to rub off some food that was stuck to Maisy’s shirt while Maisy yelled at her stop acting so motherly.  Capone stood with a confident smirk on his face as he posed with his revolver pointed at the camera.  Nara held a deck of cards in her hands and sighed at the antics going on around her.  Meanwhile, Pierre was hunched over on the ground, trying to pick up an empty wine bottle by his feet.  

 

Alan handed us each a photo and told us to put them somewhere safe so we wouldn't lose them.  He told us to have a good night and walked out of the rec room and back to his cell.  Before he left, I heard him mutter, “So this what being a real photographer is like.  It feels… rewarding.  I hope I get an opportunity like this again.”

 

Shortly after Alan left, the rest of us began to leave the party.  All of us pitched in and cleaned up the mess we made and handed all plates, silverware, and wine bottles to Pierre.  He placed the items on his trolley cart and wished us farewell.

 

“Au revoir, my friends.  Zis has been fun and I hope you enjoyed ze food.  Until tomorrow,” Pierre said.

 

Ayla, Cang, and Ginger also wished as a good night and followed Pierre to help him return all of the things that were borrowed from the kitchen.  

Once they left, Leon fell to the floor and started snoring, lying on his guitar like a pillow.

 

“How vulgar.  The loudmouth passed out drunk,” Maisy said.

 

“He’s just a little tipsy,” Capone said, slurring his words as he spoke.  “Getting drunk is no problem.  I get drunk off my ass all the time with my men.”  He turned to look at the rest of us.  “Oh shit.  I don’t think I can walk another step.  I’ll sleep in one of these chairs tonight.  Fucking hell.  It’s like my brain’s half dead,” he muttered.  He sat down in one of the chairs, leaned back, and pushed his fedora down in front of his eyes.  

 

After making sure that Leon and Capone would be okay, the rest of us returned to our cells.  Groggy from the wine I drank, I crawled into bed and laid there for a few minutes, reflecting on the party.  I hoped that we would all get to have more opportunities like this one to bond and become closer friends.  With these positive thoughts buzzing in my mind (partly due to the wine), I fell asleep.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**Monodog Theater**

 

Did you know that I’m a renowned traveller?  Yep, I’ve travelled all across the world.  I’ve seen the bright lights and hustle and bustle of new York City, drank fancy wine in the streets of Paris, rode a camel through the Sahara Desert and even played a didgeridoo down under.  I’ve met different cultures all across the world.  Some people were boring as shit like the snooty French.  Others were savage and brutal like the Amazonian tribes.  But there’s one thing that humans of every race or culture have in common: they’re all incredibly stupid.

 

Stupidity is like a disease that every human is born with.  Stupidity can make some people brain-dead idiots who can’t even tie their own fucking shoes.  Stupidity can also make morally sound citizens, who absolutely sicken me.  One time, I was walking down the street when I saw a woman drop her wallet by accident.  A street beggar saw it and picked it up.  Did that man, who was in dire need of money, take the wallet and blow that lady’s cash on whatever the hell he wanted?  Fuck no!  Stupidity took control and the man ran after the woman and handed her the wallet, asking her if she dropped it.  

 

Stupidity among humans isn’t necessarily a bad thing.  You can trick all sorts of gullible idiots into whatever you want.  If you want to sell some useless piece of crap product, simply air an infomercial having said product “perform” all of its functions.  People will pay top dollar for your product since they’re too stupid to realize that it doesn’t work.  If you’re a politician who wants to rile up a crowd, simply make up whatever facts you want.  The audience will be too dumb to see through your lies.  

 

You might be thinking, “But I’m not stupid.  Everyone else around me is stupid.  They’re the idiots.”  That might be true, but you’re currently sitting online reading a fanfiction that’s insulting the intelligence of the human race, which, by extension, is mocking you.  Who’s  _ really _ the stupid one here?

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  


*ding dong bing bong*

  
  


I woke up, clutching my head as a sharp pain dug into my brain.

 

“I guess I had more to drink than I thought,” I said as I watched the monitor flicker to life.

 

“GREETINGS INMATES!” the Wardens called.

 

“It’s 6:30 a.m.  Time to start a brand new day,” Monohawk said.

 

“Hell yeah!  Get your asses out of bed and smile at the sun!” Monodog shouted, sounding oddly happy in contrast to how he sounded in the announcement last night.

 

“Why are you happy so early in the morning?” Monopig mumbled sleepily.

 

“Oooh.  Did someone die last night?  Do we have a dead body? If we do, then it’s just like Christmas!”  Monocat cheered.  “We get a present of our own!”

 

“Now, now.  Don’t get excited just yet.  You’ll make every _ body _ disappointed if no one claimed the motive,” Monohawk said.  “Get it?  Every _ body? _ ”

 

The other Wardens sat in silence.

 

“Damn fools.  They don't know good puns when they hear them,” Monohawk grumbled.

 

“BYE-BYE!  TRY NOT TO DIE!”

 

The monitor shut off and I was left with a feeling of dread welling up inside of me.  The way the Wardens were talking made it seem as if a murder really did happen last night, but I also knew that they could be saying that stuff just to screw with us.  My thoughts were interrupted when I heard Leon scream in shock.

 

“WHAT THE FUCK?  HOLY CRAP!  T-THIS IS BAD!”

 

I left my cell to see what the commotion was and saw Leon sprinting away from his cell with a look of horror on his face.  I heard a cell door from across the hall open and saw Emile rubbing his eyes sleepily.

 

“Ugh.  I know that Leon plays like a banshee but he doesn't have to scream like one,” Emile joked.  “I thought he was sleeping in the rec room though.  What’s he doing back at his cell so soon?  The morning announcement just played.”

 

“I know.  It seems odd that he’s already awake so soon considering the state he was in last night,” I remarked.  “We should probably check out his cell though to see what got him so spooked.  His cell is the first one on this side of the wall.”

 

So, the two of us ventured over to Leon’s cell and saw that the door was still slightly opened.  I tentatively opened the door and we stepped inside.  Instantly, I was hit with a strong metallic scent that hung heavily in the air.  My eyes widened in horror as I saw the ghastly sight in front of me.  Emile stood next to me and simply looked on in silence.  I desperately wanted the whole scene in front of me to be a dream.  I wanted it all to be one cruel dream that I could wake up from at any moment.  But dreams aren’t that cruel.  Only reality could produce a sight as cruel as the one that laid before me. 

 

In Leon’s cell, I saw Ginger slumped against the wall with pieces of a broken guitar scattered around her.  Her head was covered in blood and I could see the lifeless gaze in her eyes.  At that moment, I knew that Pamela Lobell, the woman we had affectionately known as Ginger, was dead.

 

Suddenly, the monitor in her room flickered to life and Monodog appeared on screen, sitting at a large steel desk with a nameplate in front of him that said his name.  There was a large golden plaque behind him that said “Head Warden’s Office” and there were pictures of newspaper clippings of various murder cases and people who received the death penalty.  

  
“A body has been discovered!  Everyone head to the scene of the crime in Leon Arrowdive’s cell immediately!  After a brief period of time for investigation, the Prison Trial will start soon.  I’m so fucking excited!  It’s going to be a  _ killer _ trial!  See you all really soon,” he said, leaning in close to the camera and giving us an evil and menacing glare as his left eye glowed bright red.  The monitor shut off, leaving Emile and I alone to face this tragedy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINALLY finished the Daily Life for Chapter 1. Thank you to any readers who have been reading this story fro the beginning who sat patiently through all of this. The investigation will start in the next chapter and last two chapters. I don't know how many chapters the Prison Trial will end up being (maybe three or four chapters). Who do you think the killer might be? Let me know in the comments. I SERIOUSLY will get the next chapter out a lot sooner than this one.
> 
> P.S. There were one reference in the last chapter to A Nightmare on Elm Street where Audrey mentioned Mason being killed by Freddy in a dream. By Freddy, she obviously meant Freddy Krueger.
> 
> There's one reference in this chapter. It's a reference of the musical and Disney kind.


	11. Chapter 1 Deadly Life Part 1 (Investigation Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginger was found murdered in Leon's cell. Leon claims he isn;t the culprit and Blake sets out to clear the rocker's name. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and establishing the clues. The investigation continues in the next chapter which I will hopefully have out within a week or so. Then, it's onto the first Prison Trial!

**Chapter 1: Everybody’s New Prison Life**

**Deadly Life**

 

  
“I-is this real? How could this happen? Damn it. I should have done more to protect her,” I cried.

 

“Relax, Blake. None of this is your fault. You couldn’t have known this would happen,” Emile stated calmly.

 

I turned to glare at him.

 

“How could you be so calm about this? Our friend was killed and we’re looking at her body right now! How can you not give a damn about her or how I feel right now?” I yelled.

 

“It’s not that I don’t care about her. I lament the fact that she was killed and I’ll mourn her on my own time. It doesn’t matter how any of us act. What matters is how you act from here on out,” he responded.

 

“What are you talking about?” I demanded.

 

“Ahahahaha!” Emile burst out laughing and had an eerie smile on his face. “I told you before, didn’t I? You have to be strong for all of us and lead us to the truth! As a leader, it’s your job to keep us all together,” he said with a deranged expression. “You might feel that her death is your fault, but it was inevitable. This is a life or death game! It’s kill or be killed! There are those who will jump at the chance to kill and others who will act as sacrificial lambs for a selfish escape! You’re like the shepherd guiding us wayward and nervous lambs. There’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing hiding among us! It’s up to you to find the truth,” Emile said.

 

W-what is this? I knew that Emile had an insane side to him, but I didn’t know it was this bad.

Before I could question him further, I heard everyone else’s footsteps from the hallway and we exited the cell to meet with them.

 

“Is the announcement true? Did someone really die?” Ayla asked, panting for breath as if she ran all the way here.

 

“It’s true,” I said with a somber look. “Ginger is dead, right inside of Leon’s cell. You can take a look for yourselves.”

 

“Wait, someone’s DEAD in my cell?” Leon shouted.

 

“Of course. That’s why you ran from your cell, right?” Emile asked him.

 

“Hell no! I ran from my cell because I saw that someone smashed my guitar! I wanted to get help so I could find the asshole that did it,” Leon explained.

 

“You’re telling me that there’s a dead body in your room and you completely ignore it for some broken guitar? Are you that stupid?” Nara snapped.

 

“Hahaha! Your stupidity is astronomical! You’re, like, totally dense,” Audrey added.

 

“Shut up! That broken guitar was signed by all of my bandmates in The Hellraisers. It was a memento before we broke up. Besides, my stupidity is none of your fucking concern!”

 

“S-she’s really dead?” Cang said, interrupting the petty argument. “Are you sure? Maybe the announcement was wrong.”

 

“Dead means dead. Deal with that. At least I’m not the one lying dead on the floor like that slut,” Maisy said with an arrogant laugh.

 

“Shut up,” Alan roared, punching Maisy in the face. “SHUT THE HELL UP!”

 

“What the hell was that for?” Capone shouted. “Quit going at each other like that! You’re wasting time!”

 

“Bastard. How DARE you strike a lady like that!” Maisy retorted. “Who do you think you are?”

 

“I won’t let you disrespect Ginger like that,” Alan replied. “She’s an innocent woman who didn’t deserve to die. There’s still so much she wanted to do with her life and some asshole selfishly took that away from her. Meanwhile, we’re luckily all still be alive so shut up and be grateful for that.”

 

“That’s enough,” Serenity cut in. “I’ll take it from here. I’ll spare the rest of you such a horrid sight and take a look for myself. Unfortunately, I’m used to sight of bodies.”

 

With that, Serenity entered Leon’s cell and closed the door. He emerged a few minutes later with a depressed look on his face.

 

“She’s definitely dead. No doubt about it. There’s nothing we can do now. She’s in God’s hands now. I closed her eyes and showed her some respect,” Serenity shared. “Bless her soul,” he said, making a cross on his heart.

 

“You touched ze body? Zat means you could have tampered with ze evidence! We still have to investigate as Monodog said!” Pierre exclaimed.

 

“Y-yeah, the Prison Trial is coming up,” Cang said. “We have no choice but to participate.”

 

“Hmph. I don’t know about you but I’ve been bored with all of this sapy get-along sort of crap. It’s about time we get the chance to be at each other’s throats,” Capone smirked.

 

“That’s just too cruel,” Rachane said. “I can’t believe that someone would kill someone and drag us all to our potential deaths. Poor Ginger. I can just imagine all of the blood and- oh, I’m feeling faint just thinking about it,” she said as her face became pale.

 

“GREETINGS INMATES!”

 

The Wardens appeared before us and I felt a fiery rage towards them burning inside of me.

 

“That’s because murder IS that cruel,” Monodog remarked. “And now you’ve got some investigating to do!”

 

“You bastards need to be prepared for the Prison Trial. If you’re not, then you’re as good as dead,” Monohawk said with a twisted gleam in his eyes.

 

“Yahaha! I’m buzzing with excitement! Can we start the trial now? Please? Please? Monocat begged.

 

“Can’t we just skip the whole trial? I’m too busy to worry about all of this. One of my knives wasn’t returned to the kitchen yesterday and I’ve been trying to find it,” Monopig complained.

 

“Shut up! Both of you!” Monodog snapped. “We’re not speeding up the investigation process and we sure as hell aren’t postponing the trial to look for your fucking knife! This is supposed to be where we see these low-life inmates actually become useful and serve as our own judges and jury.”

 

“Did you really come here just to mock us? If you did, then leave already!” I exclaimed.

 

“We didn’t come here just to mock you,” Monodog replied. “We came here to mock you AND give you a little present.”

 

“What sort of present?” Liz asked quietly, giving the plush dog a distrustful look.

 

“We’re here to give you the one and only Monodog File,” Monopig said.

 

“Huh? What’s a Monodog File?” Ayla asked.

 

“I know that some of you here are murderers but I doubt that any of you know the first thing about autopsies. A Monodog File is essentially an autopsy report with all of the relevant information pertaining to the victim’s corpse. I won’t go into detail about any of the information because you can look for yourself. We’ve sent a file to each of your Prisoner Pads, so be sure to take a look. It’s your own damn fault if decide to ignore it,” Monohawk explained.

 

“I just want to make things clear. We aren’t giving you this because we like you assholes or anything. You’re all more unbearable than week-long visits from my in-laws! We’ve given you this information to make the trial as fair as possible. If there’s one thing you need to know, it’s that Prison Trials are always fair. That way, there’s no advantage or disadvantage for the innocent of the blackened,” Monodog said. “With all of that drawn-out crap out of the way, happy investigating! We’ll see you soon!”

 

“BYE-BYE! TRY NOT TO DIE!”

 

The Wardens vanished and we were finally left alone to start investigating.

 

“I- I need to sit down somewhere. This all seems like one twisted dream. If I look at that Monodog File, I think I might vomit,” Rachnae said. “I feel really bad that I won't be much help. It’s times like these where we all need to pitch in.”

 

“Don’t worry about! Just go with the flow and everything will be fine! We’ll find the culprit for you!” Leon boasted.

 

“Hmph. Bold words coming from a killer. Don’t forget that you’re the prime suspect,” Maisy stated.

 

Everyone except for Liz and Emile looked at him with an angry gaze as they all walked away to start investigations of their own.

 

“C-crap,” Leon said as he dropped to his knees in front of me. “Please Blake. You have to help me. I’m innocent, I tell you, as innocent a newborn baby! Help me clear my name! Please!” he begged.

 

“I’ll help you. I’m probably the only person besides Emile who thinks you’re not the killer. We both saw you flee your cell this morning and something doesn’t feel right about this case,” I replied. “If you want my help, we’ll have to do this together.”

 

**Investigation Start!**

 

I might as well start with the Monodog File. Maybe that will give me some clues.

 

I pulled out my Prisoner Pad and opened up the file. I read the contents out loud for Leon to hear.

 

Monodog File # 1

The victim is the prostitute Pamela Lobell, also known as Ginger.

The body was discovered in Leon Arrowdive’s cell.

The estimated time of death was 1:35 a.m.

The cause of death was a blow to the head which resulted in multiple skull fractures and immediate death.

The victim also has a nonfatal stab wound on her left shoulder and on the right side of her chest.

 

“I see. So this really is like an autopsy report,” I commented.

 

“At least we know how she died but we don’t know jack shit about anything else in this case yet,” Leon complained.

 

_We might not know a lot about the case yet, but at least we have a start._

 

**Truth Bullet Added: Monodog File # 1**

 

“Can I investigate your cell? There might be some important clues in there,” I asked.

 

“Go ahead. If it’ll help to clear my name, then let’s do it together!”

 

We entered Leon’s cell and were met with the sight of Ginger’s corpse on full display.

 

“Oh shit,” Leon muttered. “I’m getting the creeps just looking at her. Can we hurry this the hell up?”

 

“Calm down, you big baby. We haven’t even started looking for clues yet,” I replied.

 

“Easy for you to say. You’ll be able to sleep like a baby tonight! I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep here again,” he complained.

 

I ignored his remark and decided to take a closer look at the body. At first glance, it appeared that everything about the condition of the body matched up with what the Monodog File said. Then, I noticed a piece of paper sticking out of Ginger’s pocket. I pulled the paper out and realized that the piece of paper was a note. It read:

 

_Meet me in the communal bathrooms at 1:30. There’s something I want to discuss with you. Please come alone. I want this to be private where no one will hear us. I can’t wait to see you then._

_Signed, -------_

 

“Hey, looks you found something,” Leon remarked. “What is it?”

 

“It’s a note from the killer with their name omitted. It says for Ginger to meet them in the communal bathrooms at 1:30,” I explained. “But if the note says for her to meet them there, why did she end up here? That doesn’t add up.”

 

_If she and the killer did meet up in the communal bathrooms, then why drag her here? Couldn’t they have killed her there?_

 

**Truth Bullet Added: Mysterious Note**

 

I then noticed the broken bits of Leon’s guitar scattered around Ginger’s body.

 

“Damn it. I can’t believe that someone would stoop so low as to bash her over the head with my signed guitar to frame me. They must have used it to kill her. It would match up with the fucking cause of death,” Leon said.

 

“That might be true, but the position of the pieces looks a little off,” I commented.

 

“Huh? What do you mean?” Leon asked.

 

I pointed towards the fragments.

 

“If she was killed from a blow to the head with your guitar, then it makes sense that the pieces of the guitar would be on top of her body or by her feet. But the pieces are scattered all around the body as if they were placed there deliberately. The Monodog File said her death was instant too so she couldn’t have moved the pieces,” I explained.

 

_Leon’s guitar seems like it could be the murder weapon. But the position of the broken pieces look off in terms of where they should theoretically be. Is this really the weapon?_

**Truth Bullet Added: Position Of Guitar Pieces**

 

It was then that I noticed that Leon was also carrying his signature lime-green guitar and I became confused.

 

“Wait. If your guitar is smashed to pieces on the floor, how are you carrying another one?” I asked.

 

“Do you see that trunk over there?” Leon said, pointing to a gray metal trunk in the corner of his cell. “That’s where I keep my autographed guitar. Or at least, where I used to keep it. You see, I brought two guitars with me. I always keep this guitar with me while I keep my other guitar locked up in that trunk with a key. I make sure to lock it every night, but I guess I forgot to lock it last night since the trunk is wide open. I could have sworn I locked it though. Memory can be such a cruel mistress,” he said. He held up a key to show me. “This is the key I use to lock it up. The guitar I used at the party last night was this green little devil right here,” he said, pointing to his back. “I slept with it on the rec room floor. Now, my back hurts like a bitch.”

 

“And why did you return to your cell before the morning announcement?” I asked.

 

“I wanted to get a headstart on the day. Since I spent the night drinking like a bum, I thought I would do something worthwhile and prepare for breakfast ahead of time,” Leon explained.

 

“What time did you leave the rec room at?”

 

“I think it was 6:00 a.m. I went to take a shower then came back here. Capone can back up my story so you can talk to him later. I think I woke the bastard up. He can be a grumpy asshole,” Leon said.

 

**Truth Bullet Added: Leon’s Trunk**

**Truth Bullet Added: Leon’s Account**

 

  
“It doesn’t look like there’s anything else worth noting in here. Let’s check out the bathroom because of what the note said. Maybe they’ll be some clues there,” I said.

 

We stepped out of Leon’s cell and walked towards the bathroom. As we exited the hallway of the Male Prisoner’s Ward, I noticed a few drops of water on the floor and pointed them out to Leon.

 

“Why is there water on the floor? Did somebody spill something and not bother to clean it up?” Leon asked. “Some people have no fucking regard for cleaning up their own messes. I swear, if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s douches like that. Whatever. It doesn’t look important. Let’s move on.”

 

_I’m not so sure we should ignore this. These drops of water might not be related to the case at all, but they could always end up being important. I should keep these drops of water in mind._

 

**Truth Bullet Added: Drops of Water**

 

When the two of us reached the communal restrooms, we heard an unholy and enraged shout.

 

“Oh god. The floor! I’m gonna- SON OF A BITCH!” the voice screamed.

 

We rushed inside and saw Capone lying on the ground by the sinks and toilets rubbing his shoulder and cursing profusely.

 

“What the hell was that yelling about? Are you okay?” Leon asked, extending a hand to help pull him up.

 

“Don’t touch me! I can get up on my own!” Capone snapped. He stood up slowly and rubbed his shoulder. “Damn it. That actually hurt quite bit,” he muttered.

 

“What happened? How did you fall?” I asked him.

 

“There was a huge puddle of water out by the sinks. I think there’s water all over the bathroom floor to be honest. I went into the stall to take a piss and when I came out, I slipped,” he explained.

 

“I have one other thing to ask you. Leon told me that he left the rec room at six a.m. to take a shower. He said that you would be able to back up his story,” I said.

 

“You wanna know if that’s the truth, am I right?” Capone sneered.

 

“Yeah. So how about it?” I answered.

 

“Heh. Just know that I don't give two shits about you two. I’m just telling you this so I can have an alibi of my own,” Capone retorted. “That loudmouth is telling the truth. He tapped me on the shoulder at six a.m. and told me that he was going to take a shower. He asked me if I needed anything to help my hangover and I told him to piss off or else he would be the first victim. Pretty ironic thing to say, considering he’s the killer.”

 

“Hey! Who are you calling a loudmouth? Besides, I ain’t the killer! Someone set me up!” Leon shouted.

 

“Guilty until proven innocent. That’s the sort of reverse mentality of these trials. Your words mean jack shit until there’s proof of your innocence,” Capone said. “I’ll take my leave now,” he said. He looked at us with a piercing gaze. “See you at the trial.” With that, Capone left and we continued our investigation.

 

_At least I know now that Leon’s alibi is solid. There’s also the matter of the water on the floor here. I’ll ask Leon about that as we continue investigating this area._

**Truth Bullet Added: Wet Floor**

**Truth Bullet Updated: Leon’s Account**

 

“Hey. You didn’t see any puddles when you were showering earlier, right?” I asked Leon.

 

“No, I didn’t see any. The only puddles I left behind were in the shower as I dried off. Speaking of drying off, there’s something you should take a look at,” he replied.

 

Leon led me towards the communal showers and took me towards the wall where the towels were. He pointed at the towel cart.

 

“You and Alan showered before the party, right? Did you guys use any towels from the cart?”

 

“Huh? There’s a towel cart in here?” I asked him.

 

“You didn’t know? I thought that you got one before showering. Weird,” he replied.

 

“There was already a towel draped over my shower stall before I came in. Alan was here before me, so he must have placed it there out of courtesy,” I said. “What’s weird about the towel cart though?”

 

Leon sighed. “And here I thought you were some sort of fucking genius. Guess you’re just as oblivious as me.”

 

_That’s a pretty harsh statement to make._

 

“Most of the towels in the cart are missing from the cart. I noticed when I showered this morning. I think the Wardens refill the towel cart everyday or something because I showered on the second day here and saw Monocat restocking the cart. He told me that they clean the bathrooms very early each morning and take the dirty towels to wash them with the rest of our clothes each day. Maybe everyone showered before the party which is why there’s so few clean towels left here.”

 

_That’s odd. The only people I know for a fact who showered yesterday were myself, Alan, and Ginger. If that’s the case, why are there some many towels missing?_

 

**Truth Bullet Added: Towel Cart**

 

Then, I noticed a faint smudge on the wall opposite of the showers and walked over to examine it.

 

“Hey, what did you find?” Leon asked.

 

“There’s something on the wall here. It looks like there was something here but someone tried to smudge it away.” I replied. I leaned in closer to examine it. “Is that… blood?”

 

“Whoa!” Loen exclaimed, looking at the smudge. “It looks like some sort of faded crimson color!” A look of excitement washed over his face. “That actually sounds really cool. Faded Crimson. It’ll make one hell of a fucking song title! I’ll write it as soon as we’re done with this detective crap. When are we done investigating? This is getting more boring than watching paint dry,” he complained.

I ignored Leon’s childish complaining and focused on the blood stain. The wall around the blood stain was covered with moisture, as if someone splashed the wall with water.

 

_It definitely looks like someone tried to erase this blood stain. I guess the killer wasn’t able to do so. This gives us a huge clue._

 

**Truth Bullet Added: Faded Blood Stain**

 

“Hey, what’s that in the corner?” Leon asked.

 

“Huh? What do you mean?”

 

“There’s something shoved into the corner. It’s as if someone was trying to hide something.”

 

I took a look at what Leon was talking about and saw a bucket shoved into the corner of the room.

 

“What? What’s this bucket doing here? And why is it all wet?” I wondered.

 

“GREETINGS INMATES!”

 

With a happy shout, Monocat appeared and grabbed the bucket from my hands with his paws.

 

“Hey, give that back!” Leon shouted. “Fucking cat!”

 

“Relax, I’m not interested in playing with your ratty old bucket. I’m much more interest in yarn, or scratching posts. I came here to tell you that this bucket is one of my own!” Monocat replied.

 

“One of your own?” I repeated.

 

“Yeppers! That bucket is from the supply closet along with a mop and other cleaning products that I use to clean the bathrooms daily. Anyone is free to use it if they need to, but I guess someone used it for darker purposes. Too bad the killer couldn’t destroy it. I would scratch their eyes if they tried to get rid of my cleaning bucket, ” he snickered.

 

“Darker purposes? Do you mean-” I began.

 

“Whoops! I almost spoiled the fun! That’s a big no-no for mascots! Anyway, see you bastards in a little bit!” Monocat laughed.

 

“BYE-BYE! TRY NOT TO DIE!”

 

With that, Monocat disappeared and I was left feeling annoyed.

 

_That cat really pisses me off. At least he told us something useful. The killer must have gotten this bucket from the supply closet and tried to hide the fact that they used it. But why would they need something like this?_

 

**Truth Bullet Added: Supply Closet Bucket**

 

“I think we’re done here,” I said to Leon.

 

“Do you know who the killer is yet? If you do, we can skip the damn trial and be done with all of tis. I just wanna go back to my cell and jam out on my guitar. It’ll get my mind off of Ginger’s death,” Leon said.

 

“Not yet. There’s still more we need to find out. Let’s go to the kitchen next. Something Monopig said about his missing knife seems fishy,” I replied.

 

“Fine,” Leon said with an annoyed sigh. “Lead the way then, Mistah Detective.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was only one reference in the last chapter. The song Pierre briefly sang was "Be Our Guest" from Beauty and the Beast." I honestly love that Disney movie. It's a classic. Anyway's there's one reference hidden in this chapter. Call it a JOJOke if you will (hint hint). I couldn't resist that last line either. I thought Monosuke calling Shuichi "Mistah Detective" and knew that I had to end the chapter with that line.
> 
> Tell me what you think about the story so far. Do you like it? What should i change? Who's your favorite character? What do you think about the Wardens? Who do you think the killer will be? Leave a comment or a kudo if you're interested in the story.


	12. Deadly Life Part 2 (Investigation Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The investigation concludes as the remaining fifteen prisoners steel themselves for the first Prison Trial.

When we reached the kitchen, Ayla, Cang, Pierre and Rachane were emptying out their pockets and Monopig was questioning them.

 

“Which one of you stole my knife?  You bastards were the ones who returned everything to the kitchen last night.  If my knife isn’t here, that means one of you took it,” Monopig said.  “I wanted to use that knife to cut myself some pie for a midnight snack.  It was blueberry pie too!  So moist, so flaky, so juicy…” he said as drool dripped from his mouth.

 

“You talked about your stolen knife earlier,” I told the pig.  “Care to tell us what happened?”

 

“Huh?” Monopig said as he broke out of his food-induced stupor.  “The knife?  Sure, sure,” he agreed sleepily.  “Like I said, these bastards came here at 10:05 last night after your little party to return all of the items that were borrowed.  After that, I left the kitchen and returned at midnight for my midnight snack.  I opened the knife drawer to grab my favorite pie-cutting knife but it was gone.  Only one of these bastards could have stolen it,” he whined.  “Wait a minute.  I have to help set up the trial.  Ugh, that’s going to be such a pain.  Hopefully, the other Wardens are done already.  See you soon.”

 

With that, Monopig disappeared and the six of us were left in the kitchen.

 

_I see.  It looks like the knife really was stolen.  If that’s true, it means that one of the people who cleaned up after the party stole it._

 

**Truth Bullet Added: Stolen Knife**

 

“Can you tell me what happened last night and who helped with the cleanup?” I asked Ayla.  

 

“Sure.  Here’s what I remember.  The people who cleaned up last night were me, Cang, Pierre and Ginger.  Rachnae joined us shortly after to help us out and so did Nara.  We finished cleaning up at around 11:00 p.m,” she explained.

 

“Is there anything else to add?” I asked.

 

“Oh yeah.  I almost forgot.  Ginger stayed behind  by herself for a few minutes to make some tea.  She brought out some mugs on a tray for us at about 11:10 p.m,” Ayla replied.

 

_Ginger was alone in the kitchen by herself?  I think I know what happened to the knife now…_

 

**Truth Bullet Added: Ayla’s Account**

 

“Hey, do any of you broads or bros have alibis?” Leon rudely asked.

 

Rachane frowned at him.  “That’s quite a vulgar thing to say.  Say you’re sorry.”

 

“What are you, my nanny?  I asked you guys a legitimate question,” Leon replied.

 

“I WON’T tolerate such rude behavior.  Apologize to us and restate the question,” Rachane said.

 

“Fine,” Leon sighed.  “Do any of you guys have alibis?  There, happy?”

 

“As a matter of fact, most of the girls do.  Nara invited all of the girls over for some late night poker in her cell.  Every girl except for Ginger and Audrey were there.  We were all together the entire time and played until around 2:15 a.m.  None of us could have committed the murder,” she said.

 

“If what you’re saying is true, that narrows down the suspects quite a bit.  Thank you,” I said to her.

 

“W-we already know who the culprit is, so there’s not much point in getting alibis from people,” Cang retorted.

 

“Fuck you!  I told you that I ain’t the culprit!” Leon shouted, grabbing her shirt.

 

“Don’t lay a hand on her, you hear me?” Ayla said, shooting daggers at Leon.  “If you hurt her or anyone else here, you’re dead!”

 

“Jeez, what is she, your girlfriend or something?” Leon remarked.

 

Ayla remained silent and blushed furiously.  

 

_Looks like someone has a not so subtle crush.  As cute as it is, I need to stay focused on the case.  Rachnae’s testimony helps a lot._

 

**Truth Bullet Added: Rachnae’s Account**

  
  
  


“Let’s go Leon.  I think we found everything we need here,” I said.  “We’ll see all of you soon,” I said to the others as Leon and I left the kitchen.  Back in the Mess Hall, we Alan chewing on a banana and fiddling with his camera with a sorrowful look on his face.

 

“Hey, what’s wrong bro?” Leon asked him.  “Looks like you’ve the moody blues.”  Leon stopped and thought for a moment.  “It’s about Ginger, isn;t it?  Look, I didn’t kill her.  You’ve got to believe me, from one bro to another.  I know you liked her and I would never stoop so low as to kill my best bro’s woman.  Besides, I don’t give a rat’s ass about our missing memories, so why would I care about the shitty motive?”

 

“I believe you,” Alan said.  “It’s just that… all of this is so depressing.  After the trial, we’ll either have to say goodbye to one of our friends or all die.  The Prison Trial is a lose-lose situation,” he lamented.

 

“Do you have an alibi?”  I asked.  “I really don’t want to suspect you as the culprit or anyone else but we won’t be able to find the truth otherwise.”

 

“Alright.  After the party, I wanted to wait for the buzz from the wine to die down so I decided to take a few pictures of places around the prison.  I went to the bathroom at around 1:20.  When I left the bathroom, I saw Serenity walking in.  Serenity and I wished each other a good night and I brought my camera into the communal bathrooms with me.  Then, I went back to my cell for the night.”

 

_It looks like Alan was in the bathroom close to the time of the murder.  He didn’t see Ginger or the culprit though._

 

**Truth Bullet Added: Alan’s Account**

 

“Hey, what’s up with your camera?  The bottom looks pretty fucked up.  Did you dent it or something?” Leon asked.

 

“Hm?  Oh yeah, I accidentally dropped it during my walk.  The bottom got all dented up from the fall.  I think a piece fell off somewhere but I’m not sure,” Alan replied.  

 

_It might be something minor, but it could help to solidify Alan’s alibi later on if we need to._

 

**Truth Bullet Added: Dented Camera**

 

*ding dong bing bong*

 

The monitor in the kitchen flickered to life and Monodog appeared on screen from his office.  He had an especially excited grin and his tail was wagging with anticipation and excitement.

 

“All right inmates.  Time’s up!  Get your asses down to the Assembly Hall immediately!  It’s time to start the Prison Trial!  You’ll know what to do once you get there.  Remember to smile, have fun, and do your best.  Make sure you can feel the despair!  Don’t disappoint us,” he cackled.  

 

Then, the screen cut to black and the three of us were left with a nervous feeling in our stomachs.  The event we dreaded was finally here.  Without a word, the three of us nodded at each other solemnly and walked in silence the entire way to the Assembly Hall.  Our walk there felt more like a death march if anything.  With every step we took, we were heading closer and closer to hell.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the three of us reached the Assembly Hall, the massive doors opened up as if to swallow us whole.  We stepped inside and the doors slammed shut with a loud boom echoing behind us.  The remaining twelve prisoners were there and nobody seemed to be in high spirits.  We stood in front of the stage, waiting for the Wardens’ directions.

 

“Why can’t we do zeez after a nice meal?”  Pierre complained.  “I can't concentrate on an empty stomach.  Zat goes for cooking too.”

 

“You’d just love to stuff your face, wouldn't you?  You want to satisfy your flesh fetish, right?” Maisy scoffed.

 

“What was zat?  My taste for human flesh is not a fetish!  It eez a perfectly normal taste.  Everyone in my village is a cannibal too,” Pierre retorted.  “Besides, it takes more than flesh to give me the energy I need.  I consume at least 10,000 calories everyday.  If anything, I’m starving here.”

 

“Yeah, and shedding a few pounds, fatass,” Maisy mumbled.

 

“NEVER insult my weight,” Pierre threatened.  “You never mess with ze chubby person.”

 

“Shut it, will ya?” Nara snapped.  “We’re about to gamble our lives here in a life or death trial and you’re bickering about petty crap.”

 

The two of them stopped bickering but shot each other fierce looks.

 

Without warning, the stage began to violently shake and we stared in awe as some of the floorboards parted as an elevator slowly rose from the ground.  It was one of those old-fashioned hotel elevators with a steel door that had the Wardens’ evil red eye painted on the front.  The doors opened with a loud creak and I realized what Monodog meant when he said we would know what to do.

 

“They want us to all fit in there?”  Ayla wondered.  “Is it big enough for the fifteen of us?”

 

“I’m sure it is.  Now, let’s get going,” Serenity said.  “There’s no delaying the inevitable.”  With that, he stepped onto the stage and entered the elevator.  Everyone else followed suit.  I was about to step into the elevator too when Liz pulled me aside.

 

“Hang on.  Before we leave, there’s something I want to show you.”

 

She rummaged through her pocket until she pulled out a small glass window with a black metal cap stacked on top of it.  The glass had a large crack in it and the metal cap looked like it had been crushed by something.  

 

“What’s this?” I asked.

 

“I found it on the ground by the restrooms when I was doing some investigating of my own.  I thought it could be important.  If this little object is what I think it is, then I might have an idea of who the culprit might be,” Liz said.

 

“Really?  Who is it?” I asked.

 

“I don’t know if I can trust you yet.  How do I know I can trust you?” Liz said.  “Prove to me that you're trustworthy during the trial.  Only then will I tell you.  I’ll only do it if my life depends on it though.  I don't much care for the others,” she said with a dismissive note as she walked away.

 

_Hm.  I don't know what this little object is yet, but I feel that this could be really important.  Liz thinks it is, so I’ll trust her._

 

**Truth Bullet Added: Mysterious Object**

 

I followed Liz into the elevator and the doors in front of us closed.  We were crammed into the small coffin-like elevator with little free space as the descent to the Prison Trial courtroom began.  We were surrounded by total darkness except for the faint glow of a lightbulb that dangled above us.

 

“There’s no earthly way of knowing which direction we are going,” Audrey eerily sang.  “So the danger must be growing.  Are the fires of hell a-glowing?  Is the grisly reaper mowing?”

 

“P-please stop.  That creepy song is making me nervous,” Rachane said.

 

“Yeah.  What the hell are you doing?” Capone asked.

 

“I’m just getting into the spirit of things.  We're about to talk about a ghastly and gruesome murder.  Like, how fun is that?” Audrey beamed.  

 

“Fun?  How is something like that fun?” Alan asked.  “If you ask me, it’s just disturbing.”

 

“How is it fun?”  Audrey asked.  “Murder is the totes biggest part of any horror movie.  I know everything about murder from the movies I directed from strangulation, poisoning. Lynching, stabbing. bludgeoning, beheading-”

 

“Please, stop.”  Rachnae begged.  “I can't take something so cruel.  I might pass out before the trial even begins.”

 

Alan and Audrey stopped talking and the ride continued in silence.  With only the whir of the elevator machinery in the background, I was able to focus on the destination of our hellish descent.

  
_Ginger was murdered by one of us.  I don’t want to believe that any of us could do something so horrible but it’s the truth.  Not only that, but they tried to frame Leon as the culprit.  After everything we’ve found investigating, I know that he’s innocent and the evidence in his cell was purposefully placed there by the killer.  And that’s something I can’t forgive.  The killer betrayed the whole group for a selfish motive and left someone else to take the blame.  I have to step up now.  I’m the leader of this group.  The only way the trial will end is with one of us or fourteen of us remaining.  That’s the twisted truth.  I don't want anyone else to die.  But I’m willing to sacrifice the killer to protect everyone else.  Emile was right when he said I had to make the tough decisions.  I have to be stronger.  I need to prove that I’m a leader and guide us through this hellish situation.  I need to survive this Prison Trial!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one week? Hell yeah! I'm on fire! The first chapter of the Prison Trial will come out as soon as possible. Based not eh evidence collected so far, who do you think the killer is?
> 
> P.S.  
> The reference in the last chapter was Capone's "OH MY GOD!" done in the same manner as one Joseph Joestar. There is one reference in this chapter towards the end. Good luck finding it!


	13. Chapter Deadly Life Part 3 (Prison Trial Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first prison trial gets underway and a lot is revealed.
> 
> I tried my best to make the trial interactive and hope you'll play along to solve the mystery. I added in my own little Prison Trial event called the Judge Debate which is like a Rebuttal Showdown between two other prisoners whee you have to be the judge and decide whose argument is correct based on the available evidence.
> 
> I also included a small segment with the Wardens at the end.
> 
> Sorry this took so long to write! I'm working on the next part of the prison trial as we speak. I'll have it up in a week or two.
> 
> A list of all of the truth bullets with a description of them is in the end notes.

The elevator stopped with a sudden jolt and the doors creaked open.  We exited the elevator and stared at our surroundings with a disturbed sense of awe.  The walls and floor were covered in black and white checkered tiles with the words “COURT IS IN SESSION” hung up in various places.  In the center of the room, there was a circle of seventeen podiums that looked like the kind a witness would stand at when testifying.  In the center of the back wall, there was a throne raised above our podiums with four smaller chairs at a lower height on the side. Monodog was sitting on the throne with a twisted grin on his face.  It looked as if he were looking down upon us from where he was sitting, which was fitting considering that our very lives were in his hands- or paws. Monohawk sat to the right of him and Monocat sat in the chair on his left.  Monopig sat next to Monocat and there was an empty seat next to Monohawk. A massive monitor the size of a small movie screen hung up on the wall behind them.

 

“Okay, okay, get into position everyone!” Monocat squeaked.  The Prison Trial is now underway!”

 

“Better do what he says,” Monohawk added.  “You don't want a _cat_ astrophe on your hands if Boss gets tired of waiting.”

 

“Damn right I’m sick of waiting!  Get going!” Monodog snapped. “The podiums have your names on them, so there’s no excuse for being confused about where to go.”

 

Begrudgingly, we took our spots at the podiums, with my spot being next to Liz on the right.  Starting from Liz in a clockwise direction, there was Pierre, Alan, Nara, Mason, Audrey, Leon, Serenity, Capone, Ayla, Maisy, Ginger, Cang, Emile, Rachnae, and an empty podium on my left.  Strangely, there was a large portrait of Ginger’s face in her spot with a large red x painted over it.

 

“Why is there a portrait where Ginger should be?  Are you trying to make some art of your own?” Emile joked.  

 

“Heh.  That’s a good one,” Monodog said with a laugh.  “But no. We felt bad that Ginger isn’t here to participate in such a kickass event so we decided that she should be here in spirit,” he explained.

 

“Now your friendship can live on after death and all that sentimental crap,” Monohawk added.

 

“And what about the empty podium and empty seat?”  Serenity asked. “Surely those are important.”

 

“Dumbass!  The empty podium means that our little courtroom can fit up to seventeen people.  We decided on sixteen participants for the Inmate Reduction Program since that’s a nice even number,” Monodog said.

 

“That’s not true,”  Monocat began. “Did you forget?  There’s still the sev-”

 

“As for the empty seat in our little viewing area,”  Monohawk interrupted, “we told you before about that little nuisance.  Thank god he’s not here to ruin the trial for us.”

 

“But we can’t start without the-” Monocat started.

 

“Now then, you assholes probably know jackshit about how this works, so I’ll fill in the blanks,” Monodog cut in.  “During the Prison Trial, you will argue about who you think the killer is based on your evidence and theories and vote for whodunit.  If you vote for the correct person, only the blackened will be punished. But, if you vote for the wrong person, I’ll off every one of you bastards except for the killer and that person will be released from Dangan Maximum Security Prison, thus ending the Inmate Reduction Program.  Gahahaha! Let’s get right into it then!”

 

“Y-you’re telling us to start but how do we even begin?  W-we’ve never done anything like this before,” Cang asked.  Monodog gave her an angry gaze and she shuddered with fear and started profusely apologizing.  

 

“Wow.  I thought you were all stupid, but not this stupid,” Monodog cackled.  “I guess we could give you some help seeing as this is your first Prison Trial and all.  How about you start talking about the body and cause of death? That’s a good place to start.”

 

“Sorry guys.  I won’t be much help for this.  I couldn’t bring myself to look at the Monodog FIle.  I already feel bad enough that we lost a friend, but now I won’t be much help,” Rachnae apologized.

 

“That’s fine, Mom,” Emile said nonchalantly.  “If anything, you’ll probably be able to help us deal with all this grief after the trial with your motherly nature and all that.”

 

“Okay, okay, enough drawing out the inevitable with your crap.  Let’s begin! Start talking about how she died already!” Monodog impatiently yelled.  “I’m getting pissed!”

 

 _It looks like it’s time for us to start debating.  If this were a video game, I’d say that statements that can be refuted are_ **_bold_ ** _and statements that can be agreed with are_ _underlined._

  


**Non-Stop Debate**

  


**Truth Bullets:**

**Monodog File # 1**

**Position of Guitar Pieces**

 

Rachnae: So, how did Ginger die?

 

Emile: Blake and I found her lying dead in Leon’s cell.

 

Emile:  She had a nasty head wound and a few stab wounds on her arm.

 

Audrey:  But which wound killed her?

 

Ayla:  Maybe **t** he head wound is because she **bumped her head**?

 

Capone:  That’s a stupid idea!  Someone **clobbered her to death**!

 

Mason: The shadow government killed her!  You can always blame them!

 

Maisy:  Are you all stupid?

 

Maisy:  It’s obvious that she was **stabbed to death**.

 

**NO, THAT’S WRONG!**

**BREAK!**

**\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

 

“No, Ginger wasn’t stabbed to death.  The Monodog FIle clarified that her cause of death was a fatal blow to the head,” I stated.  “Maisy, did you even look at the Monodog File?”

 

“N-no.  Why should I?  With all of you investigating, I shouldn't have to worry myself with something so trivial,” she responded.

 

“Something trivial?  Our lives are on the line here!  It’s time to get off your high horse and pitch in already!” Alan shouted.

 

“You want me to pitch in?  All right. I’ll tell you who the killer is,” she said.  “It’s Leon.”

 

“Yeah, we already knew that.  But thanks for the obvious,” Serenity remarked.

 

“Hey!  I told you guys before that I ain’t the killer!”  Leon said.

 

“Heh.  Your words are worth jack shit.  Until we prove that you’re innocent, you’re automatically guilty.  That’s the way it works with the Russo family. I trust my men and treat them well, but if there’s someone I don’t trust, I automatically doubt them.  It’s the same as right now. We’re strangers in this screwed up place who only have each other’s word. That’s worth shit considering that we all promised not to kill yet here we are,” Capone countered.

 

“Getting back on topic here,” I said, “we’ve already established the cause of death so let’s move on to what caused the injury.”

 

“Since the weapon wasn’t something that caused the stab wounds, it has to be a blunt instrument,”  Audrey said. “I should know. There was a murder scene in one of my movies involving a bowling ball straight to the head.”

“It’s pretty easy to tell what the weapon is,” Nara sighed.  “But I guess it couldn’t hurt to discuss it.”

 

_I have an idea of what Nara’s going to say.  She thinks the guitar might be the weapon, but is that really the case?_

 

**Non-Stop Debate**

 

**Truth Bullets:**

**Position of Guitar Pieces**

**Leon’s Trunk**

**Mysterious Object**

  


Nara: It’s pretty obvious what weapon was used to kill her.

 

Nara:  The killer took Leon’s guitar…

 

Nara: and  bashed  Ginger over the head with it!

 

Pierre:  But how did the killer keep quiet?  Surely he must have made some noise.

 

Audrey: Maybe the killer was like a ninja!  They killed her without making a sound!

 

Liz:  The position of her body was strange though.  She could have been killed by something else.

 

Serenity:  That’s true.  There was  something off  about the crime scene and the guitar.

 

Ayla:  Who cares about that?  The weapon has to be **the guitar**!  There’s no other possibility!

 

**I AGREE WITH YOU!**

**BREAK!**

**\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

 

“That’s right, Serenity.  There was something off about the crime scene,” I stated.  “And that’s because of the guitar.”

 

“I thought the guitar was the weapon though.  Don’t confuse us!” Ayla complained.

 

“I’m talking about the position of the guitar pieces.  The pieces were scattered around her body,” I explained.

 

“What’s weird about that?”  she said.

 

“If the guitar was used as the murder weapon, wouldn’t it make sense that at least one of the broken pieces would be laying on top of her body.  At the crime scene, the pieces looked like they were arranged deliberately. Not a single one of them was anywhere on top of her body,” I explained.

 

“T-they looked arranged deliberately?” Cang asked.

  


“That’s right.  Besides, Leon wouldn’t use his own guitar as a weapon.  That was his special guitar autographed by his band members.  So we can say that he isn’t the killer because-”

  


**I’LL SHUT YOU UP HERE!**

**BREAK!**

 

“You’re saying he isn’t the killer because the guitar isn’t the murder weapon?” Maisy asked.  “That’s ridiculous! That guitar has to be the weapon!”

 

“Why are you doubting our observation?”  I countered. “We came to that observation from evidence.”

 

“Well, your observation is wrong!  Commoners are always wrong! It’s up to an elite like myself to set you straight.”

 

_It looks like Maisy disagrees with me.  I just have to show her that Leon is innocent.  I need to break through her argument!_

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Rebuttal Showdown**

  


**Truth Blades:**

**Leon’s Trunk**

**Leon’s Account**

**Position of Guitar Pieces**

  


Maisy:  You’re saying that the guitar can’t be the murder weapon?  That’s a lie!

 

Maisy: It was the only object in the room capable of creating a blunt force head wound!

 

Maisy:  Are you saying that you know that there’s another possible murder weapon?

 

Maisy: Prove it then!

 

Blake: I’m not suggesting anything like that.

 

Blake: I’m just stating the facts.  I’m saying that _he_ didn’t use that guitar.

 

Maisy: I bet that he bought a new guitar at the Rusty Handcuff.

 

Maisy: That way, he could carry out the murder and have a spare one to play.

 

Maisy: He somehow lured Ginger to his cell.

 

Maisy: Then, he **used that broken guitar** to kill her!

  


**I’LL CUT THROUGH YOUR CONTRADICTION!**

**BREAK!**

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Maisy, he couldn’t have used the guitar to kill her.  Leon wasn’t even in his cell during the time of the murder,” I stated.

 

“Huh?  He wasn’t?”

 

“No,” I said with a sigh.  “Although Leon and Capone slept in the rec room where we couldn’t see them, Leon still has an alibi.  He woke up at six a.m. and left the rec room to take a shower.”

 

“I don’t see how zat explains anything.  He still could have left the room and killed her,” Pierre said.

 

“Hey Capone.  Back up my alibi, will ya?” Leon asked.

 

“Fine.  Don’t think I’m doing this because I care about what happens to you.  I wish you would drop so you could shut the hell up to give me a moment’s peace,” Capone replied.

 

“That’s… a harsh way to say ‘okay’,” Emile commented.

 

“Blake is telling the truth.  Leon really did leave the rec room at six a.m. this morning.  I heard the door open and the sound woke me up. I threatened to kill Leon if he didn’t explain to me why he had to wake me up early.  I really don’t like to be woken up. Anyway, he told me that he was going to take a shower and get an early start on the day. If he had killed Ginger in the middle of the night, I would have heard the door open and would have saw him leave.  The same thing applies to me. If I had opened the door in the middle of the night, it would have woken up Leon. His alibi is also my alibi,” Capone explained.

 

“Besides the arrangement of the guitar pieces, there’s another reason the guitar couldn’t have been the murder weapon,” I said.

 

“Why’s that?”  Mason asked. “The guitar was the only possible weapon in his cell.”

 

_That’s right.  I have evidence that proves it.  I just need to pick the right piece of evidence._

  


**Select Your Truth Bullet**

 

~~Monodog File # 1~~

Mysterious Note

~~Position of Guitar Pieces~~

Leon's Trunk

Drops of Water

Wet Floor

Leon's Account

Towel Cart

Faded Blood Stain

Supply Closet Bucket

Stolen Knife

Ayla's Account

Rachnae's Account

Alan's Account

Dented Camera

Mysterious Object

  
  


**I’ve Got It!**

  


“The reason that the guitar can’t be the murder weapon is because it was locked up in Leon’s trunk,” I explained.

 

“Wait.  He had a trunk in his room?” Nara asked.

 

“Of course I did!  How else do you think I keep my prized guitars safe?  I love them more than life itself!” Leon boasted.

 

“Wait, if you’re carrying a guitar with you know, what about the broken guitar in your cell?” Mason asked.  “Did you use some sort of cloning ray? Was it rebuilt by aliens?”

 

“Nope.  I have two guitars.  The one I always carry with me is my performance guitar that I use whenever I want to rock out a little.  The other guitar is one I always keep close to me since it’s more precious to me than any gold or diamond in the world.  It’s a guitar autographed by the rest of the Hellraisers before we went our separate ways. That’s the one that’s lying in pieces and when I find the asshole who smashed it, I’ll pound them into mochi!” Leon said.

 

“Mmmm… mochi,” Monopig drooled.

 

“That’s all well and good, but what’s so important about that trunk?  So what if it holds his guitar? It could be better suited to hide a body.  The killer should have done that to make the murder more exciting,” Audrey complained.  

 

“T-that’s creepy as shit,” Leon shuddered.  “What’s important is that I lock the trunk every night before I go to bed.  I even locked it before the party. At least, I’m pretty sure I did. I have two sets of keys for the trunk.  I have the main key in my pocket.” Leon pulled out a silver key and showed it to us. “As for the spare key, I don’t remember what happened to it.  I think I might have dropped it or something since I can’t find it anywhere.”

 

For a split second, I could have sworn that Alan’s face went pale, but it might have been my imagination.

 

“Great!  That means that you’re not the killer, bro!” Alan cheered.

 

“Despite all of the evidence we’ve discussed so far, there’s still a chance that Leon could be guilty,” Liz spoke up.

 

Leon turned and glared at her.

 

“What do you think you’re doing, ya bitch?  We know I’m innocent!”

 

Liz shrunk back in her podium, clearly not used to be yelled at in such a way.

 

“I see where she’s coming from though,”  Emile shared. “We only know for sure where one of the keys is, meaning that Leon still could be the culprit if he was the only one with access to the trunk.  But I’m not a pessimist. I’ll just assume the killer found the spare key and used it. There’s one thing I want to know before we move on though.”

 

Emile looked at the Wardens and called to them.

 

“Hey.  I have a question for you.  Can the killer be included in the body discovery announcement?”

 

“Hey!  We’re not a charity!  No free handouts!” Monodog barked.  “I already gave you a starting point and now you want some more help?  Figure it out yourself!”

 

“I guess I’ll explain it to you,” Monohawk said with a sigh.  “The sooner we answer your question, the sooner we can get back to the action.”

 

Monohawk adjusted his sunglasses and cleared his throat.

 

“Listen up because I’ll only say this once.  As you know the body discovery announcement plays when three people discover a corpse for the first time.  To answer your question, the killer _can_ be included as one of those three people.  But that doesn’t necessarily mean that the killer _is_ included.  That’s all I’ll say,” Monohawk explained.

 

“What kind of cryptic crap is that?” Nara asked.  “What does that mean?”

 

“I get it,” Mason mumbled.  “The body discovery announcement can be triggered if one of the three people is the killer but the killer might not be included every time.”

 

“So that means that there’s still the slight possibility that Leon is the killer,” Emile added.  “I just wanted to clarify that.”

 

“Hey!  I thought we agreed I was innocent!  Stop ganging up on me!” Leon whined.

 

“Sorry about that.  I personally don’t think you’re the killer but there’s still the chance that you could have killed her.  We can’t leave anything unturned. Otherwise, we could choose wrong and die,” Emile replied calmly.

 

“Aw, now we’re back at square one.  We still don’t know what the weapon was _and_ we don’t have any idea who killed her,” Ayla complained.  “What do we do now?”

 

“Maybe we should talk about the case a little differently.  We could learn something new zat way,” Pierre suggested.

 

_Pierre’s right.  If we talk about the case from a different angle, we might just make a breakthrough._

 

**Non Stop Debate**

 

**Truth Bullets:**

**Stolen Knife**

**Drops of Water**

**Mysterious Note**

  


Leon:  What more is there to talk about?

 

Cang: W-we could talk more about the body.

 

Ayla:  Yeah, there’s still the matter of the  stab wounds !

 

Pierre: Was she even killed in Leon’s cell?

 

Pierre: After all, the guitar isn’t the weapon.

 

Maisy: Where else could she have been killed?

 

Maisy: There isn’t any **evidence** suggesting she was killed elsewhere.

 

Capone:  Why the hell would she have gone to Leon’s cell in the first place?

 

Capone:  Was she sent some sort of  note ?

 

Emile:  Whatever the case, they are all mysteries we need to solve.

 

**I AGREE WITH YOU!**

**BREAK!**

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“That’s it.  The killer sent Ginger a note asking to meet with her,” I exclaimed.

 

“You mean someone asked her to come to Leon’s cell?” Alan asked.

 

“No, the note didn’t say to meet in Leon’s cell.  It said to meet in the communal restroom,” I replied.

 

“Huh?  Why there?”  Ayla sked.

 

“I’ll read the note for all of you.

 

Meet me in the communal bathrooms at 1:30.  There’s something I want to discuss with you.  Please come alone. I want this to be private where no one will hear us.  I can’t wait to see you then.

 

Signed, -------”

  


“I get it.  So the killer wanted to meet in the bathroom because there’s no cameras there.  I guess they wanted to discuss something private where the Wardens couldn't see them,” Emile said.

 

“If all they wanted to do is talk, why did they kill her?  It just seems wrong,” Rachane said.

 

“What a naive way to think,” Capone laughed.  “The killer obviously used the note to lure her to a place where no one could her scream.  That way, they could carry out their crime.”

 

“That’s such a cruel way to think!  Maybe the killer really did just want to talk!  Why else would they risk killing her in such a place?” Rachane retorted

 

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Alan replied.  “The communal bathrooms are open all night and there’s always the chance someone has to go in the middle of the night.  That means that if the crime was committed in the bathroom, then there’s the possibility someone could walk in and see the culprit.  That would compromise their identity and crime entirely. It’s basically an instant death sentence.”

 

“Let’s agree then that the killer really did just want to talk,” I said.

 

Everyone else nodded in agreement.

 

“Then why did she die?” Serenity asked.  “She had so much to live for unlike me. There was no reason for her to have died.”

 

“There’s still the matter of the stab wounds,” Liz said.  “But I know where they came from. You should too, Blake.”

 

_That’s right.  I do know where they came from._

  


**Select Your Truth Bullet**

 

~~Monodog File # 1~~

~~Mysterious Note~~

~~Position of Guitar Pieces~~

~~Leon's Trunk~~

Drops of Water

Wet Floor

~~Leon's Account~~

Towel Cart

Faded Blood Stain

Supply Closet Bucket

Stolen Knife

Ayla's Account

Rachnae's Account

Alan's Account

Dented Camera

Mysterious Object

 

**I’ve Got It!**

  


“The stab wounds came from the stolen knife,” I said.

 

“What stolen knife?” Mason asked.

 

“Monopig can explain,” I replied.  “Hey, Monopig!”

 

I heard a loud snore from Monopig and then he jolted to attention.

 

“Huh?  What is it?  I was in the middle of a nap!” he huffed.

 

“You were sleeping during the trial?” Monocat asked.

 

“Yeah, it’s been so boring so far.  When do we get to punish someone?” Monopig complained.

 

“Later, now tell these bastards about the knife!” Monodog snapped.

 

“Fine.  After your party, a clean up crew came in and returned all of the supplies you borrowed from the kitchen.  While they were cleaning up, I left for a few minutes and returned at 11:00 when they were leaving. I checked to make sure everything was put back correctly and I saw that one of my kitchen knives was gone,” the lazy pig explained.

 

“Who were the people on the clean up crew?” Serenity asked.

 

_I know this.   Someone’s account tells me who was there._

 

 

  * ****Ayla’s Account****


  * **Rachnae’s Account**


  * **Alan’s Account**



 

 

**HERE’S THE ANSWER!**

 

“Ayla told me that she, Cang, Pierre, Ginger, Rachnae, and Nara were all part of the clean up crew,” I said.

 

“That’s right.  We cleaned up until 11:00 and Ginger stayed behind for a few minutes to make us all some tea,” Ayla said, confirming my statement.

 

“I see.  Then one of you is the culprit!”  Maisy declared. “I bet you killed Ginger!”  Maisy pointed a finger at Cang.

 

“M-me?”

 

“The quiet ones are always the ones you least expect in the movies,” Maisy said.

 

“Hey!  She’s not the culprit!” Ayla shouted.  “Leave her alone!”

 

“Oh yeah?” Maisy sneered.  “We’ll see about that.”

 

“You’re totally wrong!  I’ll make you regret your accusation.  I’m right!” Ayla declared.

 

“I said before that commoners are always wrong and I’m sticking by that claim!  I’m the one whose right!” Maisy said.

 

_It looks like neither one of them is backing down.  If we don’t resolve this, there’s no way for us to move forward.  It’s up to me to judged who’s right._

 

**Judge Debate**

 

**Truth Bullets:**

**Ayla’s Account**

**Mysterious Object**

**Rachnae’s Account**

**Stolen Knife**

  


Ayla: I’m telling you that Cang isn’t the culprit!

 

Maisy: She was in the kitchen with you, was she not?

 

Maisy: That means that she had the opportunity to take the knife.

 

Ayla: That’s a load of crap!  She wouldn’t hurt a fly!

 

Ayla: Besides, she couldn’t have gone to the bathroom to kill Ginger!

 

Maisy: And why is that?

 

Ayla: Because she was with me during the time of the murder!

 

Maisy: That’s a lie!

  


**I’LL BE THE JUDGE OF THAT!**

**BREAK!**

 

“Maisy, Ayla’s right.  Cang couldn’t have killed her.  You shuold know that,” I stated.

 

“What are you- oh right,” Maisy said with an embarrassed blush.

 

“Now you remember.  According to Rachnae, all of the girls except for Ginger and Audrey played poker in Nara’s cell.  You were there, Maisy.”

 

“That’s true,” Nara added.  “We played until a little over half an hour when the murder occured.  We were also together the entire time. I still have the cards in my cell to prove it.”

 

“After discussing this, I think I know who stole the knife now,” I declared.

 

“Really? Who?” Pierre asked.

 

_There’s only one person who could have stolen the knife._

 

 

  * ****Pierre****


  * **Ginger**


  * **The killer**



 

**HERE"S THE ANSWER!**

  


“I-I think Ginger is the one who stole the knife. And she brought it with her into the bathroom.”

 

PRISON TRIAL INTERMISSION!

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Warden’s Corner**

 

Monodog: Ooh!  What a spicy twist!

 

Monopig: This trial’s getting hotter than ghost pepper chili.

 

Monohawk: Who would have thought that the victim had a weapon?

 

Monocat: Is she the killer then?

 

Monohawk: Don’t be stupid!  She couldn’t have killed herself!

 

Monocat: Aw.  Then who killed her?

 

Monodog:  I can’t tell you that!  It would spoil the mystery for all of the readers!  

 

Monodog:  What I can tell you is that the killer will be revealed soon.  The best is yet to come. Will the prisoners have the will to continue on with the trial?  Or will despair vanquish them? Gahahaha! I can’t wait to find out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were no hidden references in this chapter.
> 
> There was one reference in the last chapter with the song Audrey was singing an excerpt from the song during the tunnel scene of the Gene Wilder version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I had the idea ofAudrey sining that song at some point since the third chapter of the story.
> 
> Here are the truth bullets for this trial:
> 
> Chapter 1 Prison Trial Truth Bullets
> 
> Monodog File # 1:  
> The victim was Ginger and her corpse was discovered in Leon's cell. Her time of death was 1:35 and the cause was a blow to the head, resulting in immediate death. She also had non fatal stab wounds on her left shoulder and right side of her chest.
> 
> Mysterious Note:  
> Ginger had a mysterious note in her pocket sent from the killer that said to meet them in the restrooms at 1:30.
> 
> Position of Guitar Pieces  
> Bits of Leon's autographed guitar are scattered around Ginger's body. The guitar seems to be the murder weapon but the position of the pieces seems to suggest otherwise.
> 
> Leon's Trunk  
> According to Leon, he keeps his autographed guitar inside of a trunk in his cell. The trunk has a lock on it and he locks it every night using a key. However, the trunk was found open at the crime scene.
> 
> Drops of Water  
> There were drops of water found at the beginning of the hallway of the Male Prisoner Ward. They might not be related to the case but they could still be important regardless.
> 
> Wet Floor  
> The floor all around the stalls of the men's section of the bathroom was covered with water. It looks as if someone spilled water there. 
> 
> Leon's Account  
> Leon left the rec room at 6 a.m. to shower in the communal bathrooms. Capone says that Leon woke him up before he left.
> 
> Towel Cart  
> The towel cart was found to be almost empty. However, the only three people that showered the day before were Blake, Alan, and Ginger. 
> 
> Faded Blood Stain  
> A faded blood stain was found on the wall opposite from the showers. It looks like there was blood on the wall earlier that the culprit tried to remove but couldn't.
> 
> Supply Closet Bucket  
> A bucket from the bathroom supply closet was found shoved into the corner of the wall opposite to the showers. The bucket appears to be wet, as if someone used it recently. 
> 
> Stolen Knife  
> A kitchen knife was stolen when the clean up crew returned all of the borrowed supplies to Monopig. 
> 
> Ayla's Account  
> According to Ayla, she, Cang, Pierre, Ginger, Rachane and Nara all helped clean up the party supplies. They ended at 11:00 and Ginger was let alone for ten minutes to make tea for everyone.
> 
> Rachnae's Account  
> According to Rachnae, all of the girls except for Ginger and Audrey were together until 2:15 a.m. playing poker in Nara's cell.
> 
> Alan's Account  
> Alan wandered around the prison with his camera after the party, taking pictures. He used the bathroom at 1:20 a.m. and ran into Serenity.
> 
> Dented Camera  
> Alan dropped his camera during the night and the bottom became all dented.
> 
> Mysterious Object  
> Liz found some sort of metal cap with a glass window on the ground near the communal bathrooms. It is unknown what the object is part of.
> 
> Who do you think the killer is? Comment your thoughts down below.


	14. Chapter 1 Deadly Life Part 4 (Prison Trial Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prison trial starts to heat up even more as the case starts to unfold and the culprit become more apparent. Next chapter will reveal the killer's identity.

**PRISON TRIAL RESUME!**

  


“I’m so excited!  I can’t wait until they reach a verdict!” Monocat cheered.  “Can we get to the good part already?”

 

“Let the trial take its course,” Monodog said.  “Besides, I’m getting just as impatient as you. I wanna get to the punishment soon.”

 

“Just be patient, you two.  Every good mystery novel is built up by allowing the reader to follow along and solve the case.  Why do you think Sherlock Holmes is so popular?” Monohawk retorted.

 

“Yeah, if only this mystery was just like a detective novel,” Monopig mumbled.

 

“Huh? Why’s that?” Monocat asked curiously.

 

“That way, I could skip to the end to find out whodunit and save myself the work of reading it all,” he responded.

 

“Lazy ass,” Monohawk muttered.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Wait.   _Ginger_ tried to kill someone?  Why would she do something like that?” Nara wondered.

 

“She became paranoid,” I stated.

 

\-------------------------

_“I’m scared,” she stated.  “Is that what you want to hear?  I’m scared that someone will kill me.  In movies and shows about assassins and killers, people always go after the weakest link and I’m the weakest link here.  All I am is a tease who likes to flirt with men. I’m not strong, I’m not fast, I don’t have any skills with weapons. I’m weak and that weakness will get me killed.”_

\---------------------------

 

“She really said that?  Poor girl. To think she was suffering so much and we didn’t even know it,” Rachnae lamented.

 

“Unfortunately, that’s the truth,” Alan added.  “I was there with Blake when she broke down. I thought our encouragement cheered her up, but I guess the brave face she put on was a farce.  She must have been planning a murder to protect herself.”

 

“What a fucking lot of good that did her,” Capone remarked.  “The killer ended up cutting her with her own knife.”

 

“Now that we know that Ginger took the knife from the kitchen, I think we can interpret the note a different way,” I said.

 

“I think I see what you mean,” Audrey commented.  “You mean that Ginger was the one who sent the note to the killer, not the other way around.  What a twist!”

 

“From that, we can also determine when the note was sent,” I added.

 

_That’s right.  The killer had to have received the note from Ginger:_

 

 

  * ****After the night time announcement****


  * **During the party**


  * **Before the party**



 

  


**HERE’S THE ANSWER!**

 

“Ginger sent the note during the party.  That’s the only time I can think of that we were all in one place, which meant that she could deliver the note to the killer without fail,” I answered.

 

“Wow,” Emile said with a whistle.  “Nice logic, Sherlock. Got a third all-seeing eye under that fedora?”

 

“Mysteries are just something that comes naturally to me.  I can’t remember why though. I know it has something to do with my missing memories though,” I responded.

 

“You can talk about that later!  Now’s not the time for introspection!  It’s the time for accusations and action!” Monodog yelled from his chair.  

 

“We know that the killer and Ginger spoke in the bathroom, but what does that mean?” Pierre pointed out.  “She could have been killed there, but at ze same time, zere is ze possibility she was killed in Leon’s cell.”

 

“That’s right.  I forgot that despite how much we learned so far, there’s still a lot we don’t know,” Serenity commented melancholically.  “We still don’t know the exact location of her death, the killer, or even the murder weapon for that matter. Can we really solve this case?”

 

“Hell yeah we can!  We just gotta put our faith in Blake!” Leon boasted.  “He knows what to do!”

 

_Way to put me on the spot like that Leon.  But he’s right though. I think I can solve the mystery of where she was killed._

 

**Non Stop Debate**

  


**Truth Bullets:**

**Drops of Water**

**Wet Floor**

**Alan’s Account**

**Faded Blood Stain**

  


Leon: So where exactly was she killed?

 

Leon: The killer could have chased her out of the bathroom.

 

Leon: They could have ran into the  Male Prisoner Ward  and killed her in my cell!

 

Pierre: Zat is a possibility.

 

Nara: She could have been killed in the bathroom.

 

Nara: Maybe the killer  washed away the blood  after her death.

 

Mason: Aren’t the bathrooms cleaned regularly?

 

Mason: If there were bloodstains, wouldn’t they be **completely removed**?

 

Ayla: What if she ran from the killer and **hit her head** on the shower or toilet seat?

 

Ayla: That could have caused her nasty head wound!

 

Capone: That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!

 

Maisy: Whatever the case, the killer set this up pretty well!

 

Maisy: Even an elite like me can’t figure out where the murder took place!

  
  


**NO, THAT’S WRONG!**

**BREAK!**

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“That’s wrong, Mason.  There _was_ a blood stain in the bathroom.” I said.

 

“What blood stain?  I used the bathroom during the investigation and I didn’t see it,” Capone said.

 

“The blood stain was on the wall opposite of the showers.  The reason why you could have missed it is because it was faded.  It looks like somebody tried to scrub it away but couldn’t do so completely,” I explained.  

 

“T-then that proves that she was killed in the bathroom.  Nara was right that the killer washed away the evidence.” Cang said.  

 

“Exactly.  Now that we’re certain where she was killed, this mystery just became a little bit easier to solve.”

 

“Huh?  How so?” Ayla asked.

  


“Well, if we know that she was killed in the bathroom and ended up in Leon’s cell, we just have to figure out how the killer carried her body there,” I stated.

 

**DON’T BE FOOLED BY THEIR MIND CONTROL RAYS!**

**BREAK!**

 

“I won’t let you continue Blake.  How do we know for a fact that she was killed in the bathroom?  I need proof. Yes, I _crave_ proof or else I won’t believe you,” Mason interjected.  “You could just be trying to lie to all of us!”

 

_Damn it.  I thought that Mason would agree with me but it looks like I was wrong.  I need to prove to him that I’m telling the truth or else we can’t continue the discussion.  I’ve got to break through his words!_

 

**Rebuttal Showdown**

**Truth Blade**

 

**Truth Blades:**

**Wet Floor**

**Drops of Water**

**Supply Closet Bucket**

**Faded Bloodstain**

 

Mason: Do you really think she was killed in the bathroom?

 

Mason:  Or were those thoughts implanted in your brain?

 

Mason: For all we know, you could be lying to manipulate the case in your favor!

 

Mason: You were right that the note led her to the bathroom, but you’re wrong here!

 

Mason: As a conspiracist, I always find the truth!

 

Mason: And your “truth” is nothing but a farce!

 

Blake: What are you talking about?

 

Blake: Did you check out the bathroom for yourself?

 

Blake: There’s definitive proof that the killer erased evidence of the bloodstain.

 

Mason: Of course I did!

 

Mason: I inspected the place carefully!

 

Mason: There was **no evidence** that the killer could have cleaned up the bathroom!

 

Mason: That means that there was no bloodstain there!

  


**I’LL CUT THROUGH YOUR CONTRADICTION!**

**BREAK!**

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Mason, did you really inspect the entire bathroom?” I asked him.

 

“Of course I did.  There was nothing, yes, nothing there to suggest any evidence of a cover up,” the conspiracist replied.

 

“If that’s true, then you noticed the supply closet bucket in the corner of the wall by the showers, right?”

 

“There was… a bucket?  I didn’t notice. Gah! How could I be wrong? Me, wrong? No, no, that’s impossible,” Mason mumbled.

 

“Easy there, Mulder.  Everyone’s wrong once and a while.  Even conspiracists. They were wrong about Lyndon B Johnson being behind the Kennedy Assassination and you were wrong about the bathroom. It happens,” Emile jokingly replied.

 

“T-that’s a pretty drastic comparison,” Cang commented.

 

“Regardless, what do you mean about a bucket in the corner?” Alan asked.  “Why would somebody leave a bucket lying around?”

 

“It’s because the killer used the bucket to wash the bloodstain off of the wall,” I explained.  “They carried the bucket of water back and forth to the bathroom sink to fill it up with water. They kept carrying it back to the shower and splashing the wall with water to remove the blood stain.  

 

“Why the hell would they do that? Sounds pretty stupid to use a bucket of water to wash away blood when there’s a working shower.  They could have removed the shower head and scrubbed the wall clean,” Leon remarked.

 

_That’s right.  The reason the culprit didn’t use the shower head to wash away the blood was…_

 

 

  * ****They wanted to conserve water.****


  * **They were afraid of making noise.**


  * **The showers were shut off at that time.**



 

  


**HERE’S THE ANSWER!**

 

“The reason they didn’t use the shower is because of the hours.  Remember that the showers are only available from 6 a.m. to 8 p.m.  The murder took place at a time when the showers were already… wait, what does happen to the showers after 8?”

 

“We shut those babies down every night to save some cash!” Monodog answered.  “Do you know how much money it takes to run this place _and_ keep you assholes alive and well?  Tens of thousands of dollars! And you don't appreciate our efforts for comfort in the slightest!  That pisses me off so much I could just-”

 

*BOOM*

 

“-burst,” Monohawk finished, adjusting his sunglasses as Monodog exploded into pieces.

 

Another Monodog appeared and he barked at us to continue the trial.

 

“Right,” I continued.  “The showers were turned off so the culprit was forced to use the supply closet bucket to carry water from the sink to the wall.”

 

“I get it now.  That’s why I slipped on my ass earlier when using the bathroom,” Capone said.

 

_That’s right.  The culprit left behind another big hint about the murder scene.  The evidence was:_

 

 

  * ****Alan’s Account****


  * **Wet Floor**


  * **Drops of Water**



 

 

**THIS IS IT!**

 

“There were also large puddles of water by the men’s stalls, which caused the floor to become wet.  The killer must have spilled some of the water from the bucket while they were carrying it back and forth,” I explained.  

 

“That makes sense, but what about the bucket?  Why would the killer leave it lying around in the open?” Rachnae asked.

 

“I’m guessing that they panicked and forgot that the bucket was even there,” I answered.

 

“Well, now we know for sure that Ginger tried to murder her killer and that she was killed in the bathroom.  We also know that the killer has to be male since the water was all over the floor by the men’s stalls. But how did they carry over her body to Leon’s cell?” Alan asked.  Then he had a perverted grin on his face as he started drooling. “Did they grab her body and hold onto her firm hips, her tight ass, her firm, bouncy-”

 

“Ugh, sexist pig!” Maisy snapped.  “Focus! No wonder why elies are better.  Common perverts like you can’t focus for ten seconds, can you?”

 

 **“** Hey! I may be a pervert but don’t call me unfocused!” Alan retorted.

 

_Being a pervert isn’t something you’d want to defend like that, Alan._

 

“For once, Maisy is actually right.  We need to figure out how the body was carried to Leon’s cell,” Serenity spoke up.  “It could get us closer to finding the killer.”

 

“Hell yeah!  Then let’s do it!  Let the debate begin!” Leon cheered.

 

_The mystery of transferring the body.  That’s what I need to figure out now. For Ginger’s sake, I’ll do it!_

 

**Non Stop Debate**

 

**Truth Bullets:**

**Mysterious Object**

**Towel Cart**

**Drops of Water**

 

Leon: So how was her body carried?

 

Leon: Did they carry her bridal style?

 

Liz: If the killer did that, they would have blood all over their clothes.

 

Ayla: Maybe they dragged her body and  washed themself off  with the bucket afterward.

 

Emile: There were no signs of blood or anything like that outside of his cell.

 

Pierre: Maybe zey pushed her there.

 

Pierre: They could have used some sort of object and left broken evidence.

 

Mason: They could have stuck her in a sack and carried her to the cell.

 

Capone: That’s stupid!  There’s no evidence of something like that!

 

Audrey: Oooh!  Maybe the killer pulled a Boris Karloff and turned her into a mummy!

 

Capone: What the fuck does that mean?

 

Audrey: Boris Karloff? The original _The Mummy_ ?  I’m saying that the killer  wrapped her up  to carry her to the cell!

 

Audrey: You don’t know classic horror movies? How sad!

  


**I AGREE WITH YOU**

**BREAK!**

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“That might sound a little crazy, but I agree with your idea, Audrey,” I said.

 

“Huh? You agree with that ditzy empty-headed weirdo?” Capone asked.

 

“Her theory makes sense.  When Leon and I investigated the bathrooms earlier, we took a look at the towel cart and noticed that almost all of the towels were gone,” I explained.

 

“Yeah, and so what?” Capone sneered.

 

“Well, Ginger, Alan, Leon, and I were the only ones I know for a fact showered within the past day.  We would have only used one, maybe two towels each to dry off,” I stated. “I’m pretty sure the cart was almost full.”

 

“When I showered this morning, I only used one towel, but even then, there were so few towels in the cart,” Leon confirmed.  “Either we all showered yesterday or the killer in fact _did_ create their very own mummy.”

 

“Judging by the amount of towels missing, I’d say they also used the towels to clean up the wall with the blood stain on it to cover their trail,” I said.

 

“But why wrap the towels around her?  Why not just use the towels to dry off the blood from her body?” Nara asked.

 

“I think her wounds were still bleeding at the time.  The killer didn’t want to leave any blood trails leading from the bathroom to Leon’s cell since it would have given away their plan.  Wrapping the towels around Ginger’s body would stop the blood flow so she wouldn’t leave any blood stains behind,” I explained.

 

_The idea of the towels used to clean the crime scene and carry the body also makes sense because of:_

 

 

  * ****The drops of water in the Male Prisoner Ward****


  * **The blood in Leon’s cell**


  * **Audrey’s love of horror movies**



 

  


**I KNOW THE ANSWER!**

 

“Audrey’s idea also make sense if we consider the drops of water in the Male Prisoner Ward,” I said.

 

“Drops of water?” Ayla asked.

 

“Yeah, there were drops of water on the ground leading into the Male Prisoner Ward.  If we consider the fact that the killer must have cleaned the crime scene using the towels to scrub the walls and then use them to carry the victim, a few drops of water fell from the bundle, letting us know that she was carried from somewhere else.  Since the bathroom floor in the men’s area was covered with water, we know that she had to be transported from there.”

 

“Then what happened to the towels that were used?  The killer had to have hidden them somewhere,” Mason claimed.

 

“Nope!  You thought it was the killer but it was me, Monocat! I took the wet and bloodstained towels!” Monocat interjected.

 

“Why would you do that?” Rachnae asked.  “That’s important evidence to hide.”

“If we let you bastards stumble upon this kind of evidence, the killer would be at a major disadvantage!  It would have given away part of their plan easily! If you want something in life, work for it!” Monohawk added.

 

“I’m sorry, but what do you mean by a towel cart?  I showered the day we discovered the communal bathrooms, but I didn’t see any cart.  I already had a towel draped over the shower waiting for me,” Nara butted in.

 

“There’s a whole cart full of towels to use for the showers in the communal restrooms near the wall with the showers,” I explained.  “I didn’t know about it until Leon pointed it out during the investigation.”

 

“Then how did you shower yesterday?” Nara asked.

 

“Alan was showering then too.  I think he took a towel from the cart and placed it by my shower stall as an act of-”

 

I cut myself off mid-sentence as I had a major revelation.  It was as if someone flipped a switch and millions of volts of electricity were travelling to a stagelight sized light bulb going off in my head.

 

“Oh my god.  I know who the killer is now!” I exclaimed.

 

“Who is it?  Who’s the asshole who framed me?” Leon asked.

 

_That’s right.  There’s only one person I can think of right now who could be the killer._

 

**SELECT THE CULPRIT!**

 

**Emile Bergate**

 

**Nara Zeilgiss**

 

**Alan Merkowitz**

 

**Dr. Serenity**

 

**Audrey Tappan**

 

**Ayla Camden**

 

**Cang Dushe**

 

**Leon Arrowdive**

 

**Rachnae Svelta**

 

**Capone Russo**

 

**Maisy Harnett**

 

**Mason Jessup**

 

**Pierre Gourmand**

 

**Liz Albright**

  


**IT HAS TO BE YOU!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was tricky but a lot of fun to write. The next chapter reveals the killer and the trial wraps up. The chapter after that will be the aftermath, the punishment, and the conclusion to Chapter 1. Stay tuned for the next update. Remember to comment, leave kudos, or bookmark the story if you're interested. Any and all feedback is appreciated!
> 
> P.S. There are two hidden references in this chapter.
> 
> List of Truth Bullets:
> 
> Chapter 1 Prison Trial Truth Bullets
> 
> Monodog File # 1:  
> The victim was Ginger and her corpse was discovered in Leon's cell. Her time of death was 1:35 and the cause was a blow to the head, resulting in immediate death. She also had non fatal stab wounds on her left shoulder and right side of her chest.
> 
> Mysterious Note:  
> Ginger had a mysterious note in her pocket sent from the killer that said to meet them in the restrooms at 1:30.
> 
> Position of Guitar Pieces  
> Bits of Leon's autographed guitar are scattered around Ginger's body. The guitar seems to be the murder weapon but the position of the pieces seems to suggest otherwise.
> 
> Leon's Trunk  
> According to Leon, he keeps his autographed guitar inside of a trunk in his cell. The trunk has a lock on it and he locks it every night using a key. However, the trunk was found open at the crime scene.
> 
> Drops of Water  
> There were drops of water found at the beginning of the hallway of the Male Prisoner Ward. They might not be related to the case but they could still be important regardless.
> 
> Wet Floor  
> The floor all around the stalls of the men's section of the bathroom was covered with water. It looks as if someone spilled water there. 
> 
> Leon's Account  
> Leon left the rec room at 6 a.m. to shower in the communal bathrooms. Capone says that Leon woke him up before he left.
> 
> Towel Cart  
> The towel cart was found to be almost empty. However, the only three people that showered the day before were Blake, Alan, and Ginger. 
> 
> Faded Blood Stain  
> A faded blood stain was found on the wall opposite from the showers. It looks like there was blood on the wall earlier that the culprit tried to remove but couldn't.
> 
> Supply Closet Bucket  
> A bucket from the bathroom supply closet was found shoved into the corner of the wall opposite to the showers. The bucket appears to be wet, as if someone used it recently. 
> 
> Stolen Knife  
> A kitchen knife was stolen when the clean up crew returned all of the borrowed supplies to Monopig. 
> 
> Ayla's Account  
> According to Ayla, she, Cang, Pierre, Ginger, Rachane and Nara all helped clean up the party supplies. They ended at 11:00 and Ginger was let alone for ten minutes to make tea for everyone.
> 
> Rachnae's Account  
> According to Rachnae, all of the girls except for Ginger and Audrey were together until 2:15 a.m. playing poker in Nara's cell.
> 
> Alan's Account  
> Alan wandered around the prison with his camera after the party, taking pictures. He used the bathroom at 1:20 a.m. and ran into Serenity.
> 
> Dented Camera  
> Alan dropped his camera during the night and the bottom became all dented.
> 
> Mysterious Object  
> Liz found some sort of metal cap with a glass window on the ground near the communal bathrooms. It is unknown what the object is part of.


	15. Chapter 1 Deadly Life Part 5 (Prison Trial Chapter 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The culprit is revealed as none other than Alan! How does he- and the rest of the prisoners deal with this-turn of events? This chapter was lots of fun to write since the mystery finally gets solved and goes full circle with the Closing Argument. Next chapter should come out soon (hopefully within the week).

“Alan, you’re the killer, aren’t you?” I declared.  “You’re the one who killed Ginger.”

 

“W-what? That’s crazy!  There’s no base for that sort of accusation!” Alan declared.

 

“Hey! I thought you said you would expose the asshole who framed me! Looks like you’re the assholse instead for insulting my bro with such a stupid claim!” Leon added.

 

“But he knew where the towel cart was,” I countered.  “He knew where to find the towels that the killer use.”

 

“Towels?” Alan spat.  “Our lives are on the line here and you’re accusing me of being a killer because of fucking _towels_?  Anyone besides me, Ginger, you, and Nara could have known where they were!  Your accusation holds no weight!”

 

“He isn’t wrong though,” Cang added.  “You need more proof than that to prove he’s the killer.”  She looked at me and shrunk back. “S-sorry. I just thought you should know that,” she stuttered.

 

“Be more confident!” Ayla called to her.  “If you have something to say, don't shrink back and feel sorry.  Say what you want with pride and conviction!” Then, she turned to me.  “The same applies to you. I dunno what’s really going on with the whole case but if you believe that Alan’s the killer, prove it.  Let your words reveal the truth you’re looking for.”

 

“Reveal the truth? Hah!  The truth is that Blake’s accusation is a load of bolshit!  And I’ll prove it!” Alan declared.

 

_There’s definite proof that Alan is the killer.  It’s like Ayla said. I need to turn my conviction into the truth.  I need to show everyone what they’re missing!_

 

**Non Stop Debate**

 

**Truth Bullets**

**Mysterious Note**

**Alan’s Account**

**Mysterious Object**

**Wet Floor**

**Towel Cart**

 

Alan: Do you really think I’m the killer? That’s crazy!

 

Audrey: Well, you, like, knew about the towel cart by the showers.

 

Alan: So could other people!  That still doesn’t prove anything!

 

Mason: The killer can’t be a female prisoner since because of the water in the men’s side of the bathroom.

 

Serenity: We know for a fact that it can’t be Leon.  We already proved that Same for Capone.

 

Alan: He could still be lying!

 

Capone: Well, where the hell were you the night of the murder?

 

Alan: I spent some time wandering around taking pictures to ease my mind.

 

Nara: Is that all you did? Did anyone see you?

 

Alan: I also used the bathroom last night but I **didn’t run into anybody!**

 

**NO, THAT’s WRONG!**

**BREAK!**

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“That’s a lie, Alan.  You did run into somebody.  You proved that to me yourself,” I declared.

 

“Wait.  How did he prove zat?” Pierre asked.

“Alan’s alibi tells me everything.  Earlier, he told me that when he went to the bathroom, he saw Serenity leaving at around 1:20.  You can confirm that, can’t you, Serenity?”

 

“Indeed.  I went to the bathroom myself at around 1:15.  Obviously, the murder didn't take place yet so everything was still in order.  As I left, Alan walked in and he was carrying his camera with him. I didn’t stick around once I left since I didn’t see any need to.  If only I stayed,” he lamented with a sigh.

 

“Soooo, he’s the killer then! He knew about both the towel cart _and_ went to the bathroom veeery close to the time of the murder.  Makes sense he’s the culprit then,” Audrey smiled.

 

“That’s bolshit!  Alan didn’t kill anyone!  I refuse to believe it!” Leon shouted.  He turned to Audrey and gave her a furious look.  “If he’s the killer, explain it to me then! Your belief is nothing but crap!”

 

“Nope, he’s definitely the killer.  I’ve seen and directed enough snuff films to know when someone’s a murderer,” Audrey said.

 

“You’re the one who’s wrong!” they both shouted at once.

 

_It looks like it’s up to me again to play the mediator.  I know that Audrey’s right about Alan being the killer. Audrey and I just need to get Leon to see the truth, as much as it will hurt him._

 

**Judge Debate**

 

**Truth Bullets**

**Mysterious Note**

**Dented Camera**

**Alan’s Account**

 

Audrey: Alan is totes the killer!  Don’t deny it!

 

Leon: NO! I _refuse_ to accept that my bro is the killer!

 

Audrey: Seems pretty fishy that he would be in the bathroom so close to the time of the murder.

 

Leon: That’s just a **coincidence**! That proves jack shit!

 

Audrey: Oooh. Or what about the mysterious note?  Ginger could have sent it to him.

 

Leon: Don’t forget what we talked about earlier!  She passed out the note at the party where everyone was there.  It could have been any other guy besides me or Capone who received the note!

 

Audrey: Alan’s whole story is sooo stupid though.  Why would he bring a camera into the bathroom?

 

Leon: That’s because Alan told me he was taking pictures around the prison that night.

 

Audrey: Oh, are you certain?  He could have killed Ginger with his camera like “Whack! Crack!”

 

Leon: There’s something wrong with your head, isn’t there?

 

Audrey: Perhaps.

 

Leon: That’s also impossible! There’s no evidence to prove anything like that!

 

Audrey: Are you sure?  

 

Leon: Positive!  I’m right and you’re wrong!  End of story!

 

**I’LL BE THE JUDGE OF THAT!**

**BREAK!**

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Leon, Audrey is right.  Alan could be the killer.  You saw the proof for yourself,” I said.

 

“What proof eez zat?” Pierre asked.

 

“When Leon and I were investigating earlier and received Alan’s alibi, Leon noticed that the bottom of his camera was all dented in.  Alan said he dropped it and I thought nothing of it at the time. Judging from what we know now, I’d say that Alan’s camera is the murder weapon.  He used it to bash Ginger over the head and cause the fatal head wound,” I explained.

 

“B-bro?  Is this true?” Leon asked.  There was a stinging look of betrayal in his eyes, a look that said everything.  Leon didn't want to admit that his close friend could be the killer, but he knew deep down that the person he thought he could trust betrayed him.

 

“N-no!  Of course it isn’t!  This is all still speculation!  All of it!” Alan cried.

 

“If you claim you aren’t the killer, then the dent in your camera came from dropping it elsewhere.  Care to explain the exact place where you dropped it?” Maisy asked shrewdly. “If you can’t give a solid answer, you’re obviously lying.”

 

“How the fuck should I remember?  It was last night! I was still a little drunk!  Don’t judge me!” Alan bellowed.

 

“Jeez, you’re really getting desperate, aren’t you?” Capone commented.

 

“It’s like you’re an entirely different person,” Rachane added in a worried voice  Just take a few deep breaths and count to three. In and out. In and-”

 

“Well EXCUSE ME for not being respectful or friendly at the moment!  I’m being accused of murder here! It’s a _little_ hard to be calm when your very life is at stake,” Alan yelled.  There were beads of sweat dripping down from his face now.

 

“I can prove that the camera was the weapon and that Alan is the killer,” Liz suddenly spoke up.  

 

“What?  You can?” Ayla asked.

 

“Bolshit.  A mouse like you couldn’t even leave an echo in a cave, let alone speak up to reveal the truth,” Capone sneered.

 

“It’s true.  I’ve sat back long enough.  Blake proved to me he could be trustworthy so I’m willing to share what I know.  It’s only fair,” Liz stated.

 

“Show us the evidence then!  Do it!” Leon shouted.

 

“C-crap,” Alan muttered.

 

_Liz finally decided to step up.  She knows something that nobody else knows.  It’s up to me to find out what it is and tell everyone.  We need indisputable proof that Alan is the killer!_

 

**Non Stop Debate**

 

**Truth Bullets**

**Mysterious Object**

**Dented Camera**

**Faded Bloodstain**

 

Ayla: Just to be clear, the camera isn’t the murder weapon, right?

 

Serenity: *sigh* We’ve already established this.  Liz is trying to explain how the weapon that caused the blow to the head is the camera

 

Ayla:  I dunno.  Is a blow like that really that fatal?  There’s **not really proof** of that.

 

Pierre: Ignoring her empty-headedness, what proves zat ze camera was used in ze murder?

 

Capone: That dent could have come from anywhere.

 

Liz:  No, that’s wrong.  Blake and I know of incriminating evidence.

 

Emile: Is that so?  And what is this evidence you speak of?

 

Liz: It was an important clue at the scene of the crime.

 

Liz: It’s something the killer left behind.

 

Maisy: The killer didn’t leave anything like that behind!  What are you talking about?

 

Liz: You’ll find out soon enough.

 

**I AGREE WITH YOU!**

**BREAK!**

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Liz is right.  The killer _did_ leave important evidence behind,” I said.  

 

“Then where was the evidence?” Serenity asked.

 

“Liz gave this to me before we entered the elevator for the Prison Trial.  She said that she found it near the communal bathrooms while she was investigating,” I explained, pulling out the metal cap and cracked glass window.

 

“What the hell is that?  It looks like some sort of weird crushed up bottle cap.  Not that it really matters what it is,” Nara commented.

 

“If we consider the camera as the murder weapon, it’s easy to see what this small object really is,” Liz said.  She turned to face me. ‘Go on, Blake. You know what I’m talking about.”

 

_That’s right.  Based on the evidence we have against Alan, I think I know what the mysterious object really is._

 

**Hangman’s Gambit**

 

**The mysterious object is a...**

**RACMAE SNEL**

\----------------------------------------- 

**CAMERA LENS**

 

**I’VE GOT THIS!**

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“The object that Liz found was a camera lens.  The only way that the lens could have fallen off is if it were slammed down with extreme force.  Enough force to cause blunt force trauma and kill a person,” I said, staring at Alan.

 

“I guess cameras really _can_ steal your soul,” Audrey said with a laugh.

 

“T-that’s-” Alan began.

 

“I guess a picture’s worth a thousand words.  Or in this case, a lens is worth a thousand pictures.  We now know for sure what the weapon is and who the killer is,” Emile joked.

 

“You said it yourself earlier too, Alan,” I added.

\--------------------  

_“Hey, what’s up with your camera?  The bottom looks pretty fucked up. Did you dent it or something?” Leon asked._

 

_“Hm?  Oh yeah, I accidentally dropped it during my walk.  The bottom got all dented up from the fall. I think a piece fell off somewhere but I’m not sure,” Alan replied._

\---------------------

“I guess now we know what the missing piece was.  It was the camera lens,” I stated. “Admit it. You’re the killer, Alan.  There’s no doubt about it!”

 

“Heh.  Heh heh. Hahahahahahaha! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

 

Alan started laughing like a lunatic and we all stared in horror.

“B-bro? Are you okay?” Leon asked.

 

“Am I okay? I get accused of murder and you’re asking me if I’m _okay_?” Alan spat.

 

“He’s losing it,” Maisy muttered.

 

“It seems as if he’s trapped.  Like the mouse being pounced on by the cat.  Like a serial killer being cornered by a bunch of teenagers.  Like a-” Mason ranted.

 

“Shut up! I get it!” Alan screamed.  “But don't I have the right to act like this?  I’m being accused of a crime I didn’t commit. I _think_ my actions are justified.  Wouldn’t you be freaked out if everyone turned on you?”

 

His tone changed to a more apologetic and submissive one.

 

“Guys, you know I wouldn’t kill her, right?  I would never hurt a woman like that. Violate,sure, but never hurt.  Please, just trust me. We’re friends, right? Friends are supposed to believe each other,” Alan begged.

 

“Did Ginger feel the same way when you killed her?  Did she beg for her life too?” Serenity asked. “You don’t have any right to say anything like that.”

 

“But I’m not the culprit!  I’m not! I refuse to have my name slandered like this!” Alan declared.

 

“You’re obviously the killer.  There’s no other person it-” I began.

 

“NO!  Unless you have concrete, irrefutable evidence that I’m the killer, I won't listen to another word you say!” Alan shouted.  “Not a word! Did you forget about the spare key missing? We don’t know where it is. Since it’s missing and no one has it, that means that we don;t know who opened the trunk.  That means I’m innocent!”

 

Alan turned and glared at me.

 

“See? I told you I’m innocent!  Just believe me already!”

 

“I can’t Alan.  There’s still something off about that statement.  I know the truth behind this case,” I stated.

 

“Prove it, damn it! Prove it then!” Alan shouted.

 

_It looks like Alan refuses to give up.  I need to prove to him why he’s the killer.  If I don’t everyone’s lives will be forfeited.  I have to do this! We need to survive this hellish trial!_

 

**Bullet Time Battle**

 

**Screw you! I’m not the culprit!**

**I thought we were friends!**

 

**I’ll take a picture of you free of charge!**

 

**Stop looking at me like that!**

 

**Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!**

 

**Please believe me!**

 

**I would never harm a chest with breasts!**

 

**I’m not listening!**

 

**You have no photographic proof!**

 

**You’re a liar!**

 

**ENOUGH!**

**If the spare key to the guitar trunk is missing, how could I have possibly opened up the trunk to take the guitar?**

 

**USING KEY THE SPARE**

 

**USING THE SPARE KEY**

 

**IT’S ALL OVER FOR YOU!**

 

**BREAK!**

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“That’s wrong, Alan.  The spare key isn’t missing.  You had it all along,” I revealed.

 

“W-what are you talking about?” Alan stammered.  “No one has the spare key. It’s missing, remember?”

 

“No, it’s not missing.  It’s just hidden. Hidden away in your pocket!” I declared, pointing at Alan.  “Do you guys remember what happened two days ago?”

 

\-------------------------

_“Here you go,” Leon said to Alan.  “I’m giving you the spare key to the guitar trunk in my cell.  Come over and take a guitar to practice whenever you want! There’s no boundaries for bros!”_

 

_“Thanks.  This band’s going to be awesome!” Alan exclaimed as the two of them gave each other a manly hug then stood up to walk back to their cells._

\-----------------------------

 

 **“** Oh yeah! Leon gave Alan a spare key so he could take a guitar and practice whenever he wanted!” Ayla exclaimed.  “I get it. If Leon gave the only spare key to Alan, it means that he was the only one who could have set up the broken guitar.”

 

“And Alan couldn’t dispose of the key either.  It wouldn’t look good if Leon ever asked for the key back and he didn't have it,” Mason commented.  “Everything makes sense now, very much so.”

 

“How about it?  Empty your damn pockets and show us the key!” Capone demanded.  “Do it or I’ll splatter your brains across the trial grounds!”

 

“I-I-I- I c-c-can’t,” Alan said in a voice laced with fear.

 

“That settles it,” Liz said.  “Blake, can you wrap things up?”

 

“I will.  For you. For all of us!  Let’s end this!” I declared.

 

**HERE’S EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED IN THIS CASE!**

 

“This particular crime all started with the victim Ginger.  After meeting with myself and the killer earlier yesterday, Ginger formulated a plan to kill someone.  She wrote a mysterious note for the killer asking to meet her in the communal restrooms at 1:30. Then, during the party last night, she slipped the note to her killer.  The killer most likely saw the note and thought nothing of it, preparing to meet with her while being unaware of her intentions.

 

After the party, Ginger, Ayla, Cang, Pierre, Rachnae, and Nara helped clean up all of the borrowed party supplies and returned them to the kitchen.  At 11:00, everyone left the kitchen except for Ginger so she could make tea for everyone. However, that was just a cover for her true intentions. While everyone was gone, she stole one of the knives used at the party and then made tea so nobody would be suspicious.  After delivering tea to the clean-up crew, she was invited to play poker with all of the other girls in Nara’s cell but she turned down the offer and returned to her cell. Ginger’s plan was now in place. Little did she know that this murder attempt would be the death of her- literally.

 

At 1:20, the killer, not knowing that Ginger sent the note, decided to wait in the restrooms to meet with the author of the note.  Upon entering the bathroom, the killer ran into Serenity who was leaving at the same time the killer entered. The killer also brought an important item into the bathroom with them- a camera that they were carrying on them that night.  At 1:30, Ginger came in and the two of them moved towards the communal showers to talk.

 

However, Ginger planned her attack.  She pulled out the knife and attempted to stab the killer to death.  Panicking, the killer managed to grab the knife away and stabbed Ginger on her left shoulder and right side of the chest to prevent her from going any further.  Then, the killer bashed her over the head with their camera, immediately killing her. As a result of the force, the bottom of the camera became dented. Seeing a huge amount of blood, the killer immediately used their surroundings to their advantage.  

 

Because the showers were shut off at the time, the killer took a bucket from the supply closet and filled it with water from the sinks in the men’s side of the bathroom.  Because the killer had to transport the water back and forth from the shower area to the men’s area, some of the water spilled, causing the floor to become wet and slippery by the men’s stalls.  The killer used the water to wash away the bloodstains left behind from the murder and to clean off the victim. They used a bunch of towels to dry off the area and wrap up the body like a mummy to transport it for the next part of their plan.  However, the killer left two major pieces of evidence behind. No matter how hard the killer cleaned the wall opposite the showers, they left a faded blood stain on the wall as proof that Ginger was killed there. In addition, the lens of the camera broke off when the killer used it as a weapon.  The killer was unaware of the missing part to their camera at the time, so they left behind that incriminating evidence by mistake in the bathrooms.

 

The second part of their plan involved framing Leon for their crime.  The killer carried Ginger’s body to Leon’s cell to make everyone think he was the killer.  However, the body was still a little wet and a few drops of water leaked from the towels and onto the floor of the Male Prisoner Ward, leaving valuable evidence behind of the true location of the crime.  Inside Leon’s cell, the killer unwrapped Ginger and propped her up against the back wall of the cell.

 

The killer then went over to Leon;s guitar trunk to grab the fake weapon- the one they wanted us to believe was what killed her.  However, the trunk was locked since Leon locked it before he left for the party. Leon and Capone were still fast asleep in the Rec Room at the time, so the killer took full advantage of that.  Even though Leon had the main key, the killer wasn’t worried. They used the spare key that Leon had given them two days before and unlocked the trunk. Taking Leon’s autographed guitar, they smashed it to pieces, most likely on their knee to avoid waking anyone up from the noise.  Then, they scattered the pieces around Ginger’s body to make it look as if the guitar was the murder weapon. The killer left Leon’s cell, feeling relieved that the crime was now over. However, the spare key turned out to be the killer’s downfall since they were the only one capable of opening the trunk at the time.  There’s only one possible person who could have committed the crime. Alan Merkowitz, the photographer, is the one behind all of this!”

 

**COMPLETE!**

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Well, bro? What do you have to say?” Leon asked.

 

“O-oh shit,” Alan whispered.

 

“Bastard.  Why did you kill her?” Nara demanded.

 

“All right, all right!  Save your questions for just a little longer!  Right now, it’s voting time!” Monodog shouted.  

 

We heard a buzz and looked down as our podiums displayed an electronic screen wit all of our faces on it.

 

“Use the screen in front of you to vote for the killer!  I can’t wait!” Monocat cheered.

 

“Make sure you vote for somebody.  If you don’t vote, you die. It’s as simple as that,” Monohawk said.

 

“Give it a go.  Things are finally getting exciting,” Monopig mumbled.

 

“IT’S… VOTING TIME!” the Wardens announced dramatically.

 

The room grew tense as a lingering silence pervaded the trial grounds.  Everyone was silent as we casted our votes for the culprit. Once we finished voting, Monodog spoke up.

 

“Now then.  Let’s see our beautiful results!”

 

The giant monitor behind him turned on as a pixelated 8-bit sprite of Alan’s face appeared on screen.

 

“I see.  So this is the person you voted for,” he commented.  “Now, who will be chosen as the blackened? Will you condemn them to hell, or will you all join the dead man’s party? Are you bastards right or wrong?  Let’s see! Let’s fucking see!”

 

A slot machine appeared on the screen and the lever was pulled.  8-bit sprites of our faces flashed by on the slots until the machine stopped on Alan’s face.  The words “Jackpot” appeared on screen as Monocoins flooded out of the machine with 8-bit sprites of the Wardens cheering and jumping with joy on the sides of the machine.  The image on the screen then changed to say: “Alan Merkowitz is the guilty culprit! Congratulations!” A large portrait of Monodog’s sinister face was in the background, mocking us for the choice we made in condemning our friend to a horrible death.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos or a comment if you enjoyed. I plan to finish Chapter 1 and write a few alternate executions before starting Chapter 2.
> 
> P. S. The references in the last chapter were to actor Boris Karloff, a famous actor who starred as the monster in all of the classic monster movies like Dracula and The Mummy. The other reference is a Jojo reference (it's obvious which meme the reference is to). There is one reference (or rather interesting misconception) in this chapter and other reference hidden as well.
> 
> Here are the Truth Bullets for this case:
> 
> Chapter 1 Prison Trial Truth Bullets
> 
> Monodog File # 1:  
> The victim was Ginger and her corpse was discovered in Leon's cell. Her time of death was 1:35 and the cause was a blow to the head, resulting in immediate death. She also had non fatal stab wounds on her left shoulder and right side of her chest.
> 
> Mysterious Note:  
> Ginger had a mysterious note in her pocket sent from the killer that said to meet them in the restrooms at 1:30.
> 
> Position of Guitar Pieces  
> Bits of Leon's autographed guitar are scattered around Ginger's body. The guitar seems to be the murder weapon but the position of the pieces seems to suggest otherwise.
> 
> Leon's Trunk  
> According to Leon, he keeps his autographed guitar inside of a trunk in his cell. The trunk has a lock on it and he locks it every night using a key. However, the trunk was found open at the crime scene.
> 
> Drops of Water  
> There were drops of water found at the beginning of the hallway of the Male Prisoner Ward. They might not be related to the case but they could still be important regardless.
> 
> Wet Floor  
> The floor all around the stalls of the men's section of the bathroom was covered with water. It looks as if someone spilled water there. 
> 
> Leon's Account  
> Leon left the rec room at 6 a.m. to shower in the communal bathrooms. Capone says that Leon woke him up before he left.
> 
> Towel Cart  
> The towel cart was found to be almost empty. However, the only three people that showered the day before were Blake, Alan, and Ginger. 
> 
> Faded Blood Stain  
> A faded blood stain was found on the wall opposite from the showers. It looks like there was blood on the wall earlier that the culprit tried to remove but couldn't.
> 
> Supply Closet Bucket  
> A bucket from the bathroom supply closet was found shoved into the corner of the wall opposite to the showers. The bucket appears to be wet, as if someone used it recently. 
> 
> Stolen Knife  
> A kitchen knife was stolen when the clean up crew returned all of the borrowed supplies to Monopig. 
> 
> Ayla's Account  
> According to Ayla, she, Cang, Pierre, Ginger, Rachane and Nara all helped clean up the party supplies. They ended at 11:00 and Ginger was let alone for ten minutes to make tea for everyone.
> 
> Rachnae's Account  
> According to Rachnae, all of the girls except for Ginger and Audrey were together until 2:15 a.m. playing poker in Nara's cell.
> 
> Alan's Account  
> Alan wandered around the prison with his camera after the party, taking pictures. He used the bathroom at 1:20 a.m. and ran into Serenity.
> 
> Dented Camera  
> Alan dropped his camera during the night and the bottom became all dented.
> 
> Mysterious Object  
> Liz found some sort of metal cap with a glass window on the ground near the communal bathrooms. It is unknown what the object is part of.


	16. Chapter 1 Deadly Life Part 6 (Prison Trial Chapter 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alan explains what happened between him and Ginger and the reason he killed her and he gets what's coming to him. The execution will be in the next chapter as its own chapter.

“You hit the nail right on the head.  Or should I say right into the coffin!” Monodog announced mockingly.  “The killer was none other than Alan!”

 

“Wowee!  That was such a rush!  All that high-speed debating going back and forth, back and forth, like a tennis match!  Such despair too!” Monocat exclaimed. “And the reveal that the victim was killed in the bathroom?  Brings back such good memories!”

 

“Yeah, it really reminds of you of that popstar chick, doesn’t it?  Anyways, you’re finally starting to see what the Prison Trial is all about, “ Monohawk said.  “It’s all about the suspense and buildup. It’s all about the look on your faces when you out the friend who betrayed you all.  It’s despair in its raw and truest form!”

 

“Despair is so delicious, like a freshly baked doughnut,” Monopig mumbled.

 

We looked at Alan with mixed looks of shock, anger, curiosity, and pity.  Finally, Leon cut in.

 

“Why?” he asked.  

 

Leon’s voice was devoid of the passion or loud liveliness it usually had.  Instead, it sounded hollow and betrayed. That one word conveyed all of our thoughts.

Why would Alan kill someone?  How could he be driven to do it?  What reason would he have for going against his word?

 

“B-because it was an accident!” he blurted.

 

“Accident?  Bullshit. Murder is no accident,” Capone replied.  “You consciously make that decision. It’s either you kill or you don’t kill.  I’ve faced that choice many times before.”

 

“I-it’s true!  You guys know that Ginger tried to kill me!  You guys have to believe me. I had no intention of killing her nor did I bear any hatred towards her.  Let me explain what happened,” Alan said.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Last night, 1:30 a.m.**

 

_ Alan stood by the showers with his hands in his pockets whistling “Myla Goldberg”.  He pulled out the note that he found in his pocket after the party. He didn’t know where it came from or who sent it, but had decided to follow the note’s instructions and meet with its sender.  He glanced at it again to check the time again. 1:30. “The sender should have been here by now,” he thought. _

 

_ “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” a silky voice said. _

 

_ He looked up and saw Ginger walking towards him.  She had a seductive smile in her face and Alan grinned with glee. _

 

_ “Me and Ginger alone.  Yes!” he thought. “I can show her just the kind of gentleman I am.” _

 

_ “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.  There was something I wanted to talk to you about,” Ginger said. _

 

_ “Sure.  Go ahead, I won’t bite,” Alan joked. _

 

_ “Do you remember anything about your life before waking up here?” Ginger asked. _

 

_ “Of course I do.  I remember-” _

 

_ “Let me rephrase that.  Do you remember anything about your prison life?  Do you remember being put on trial and arrested for your crimes?” Ginger asked. _

 

_ “I don’t remember anything about that.  None of us do. Do you?” Alan replied. _

 

_ “I don’t.  But I want to find out.  I know what crimes I committed but I don’t remember what happened after.  What did I lose? What happened to me? Why don’t they want us remembering what happened?  It’s driving me crazy!” Ginger said as her voice began to break and tears started flowing. _

 

_ “It’s okay Ginger,” Alan said, putting his arms around her in comfort.  “It’ll be okay. We’re safe. Do you really think anyone would commit murder?  My missing memories don't mean anything to me and you shouldn't think about them either.  I’ll protect you from whatever might come our way.” _

 

_ “You will?  You’re my hero,” Ginger purred. _

 

_ “O-oh jeez.  Now you’re making me blush,” Alan said. _

 

_ “I have a present for you.  Close your eyes and don’t peek,” Ginger said. _

 

_ Alan obliged and shut his eyes. _

 

_ “Hell yeah!”  “We’re gonna have a ‘happy ending’ together!” Alan thought with a perverted grin.  “I have to take a peek! I have to see the goods!” _

 

_ Alan opened his eyes and gasped in pure shock.  Ginger had a knife in her hand and it was about to drive it into his back. _

 

_ “Oh crap!” Alan shouted as he let go of Ginger and stepped away.  “What are you doing?” _

 

_ “I want my memories back.  I need them. I need to know what happened to me, no, what happened to all of us.  I have to find out the truth! And a poor sucker like you my ticket out of here!” Ginger declared as she lunged towards Alan with the knife outstretched. _

 

_ “You’re crazy!  Calm down Ginger! Think about this!” Alan shouted. _

 

_ “My mind is made up.  I have to do this! I need to get out of here!”  _

 

_ Alan dodged left as Ginger stabbed the knife straight and he grabbed her wrist.  He tried to wrestle the blade away from her and a struggle ensued. During the struggle, the knife pierced the right side of her chest and she gasped in pain.  She still had an iron grip on the knife and Alan twisted her arm and stabbed the blade into her left shoulder. She let another gasp and dropped the knife at her feet. _

 

_ “I’m sorry.  But this is the only way to calm you down,” Alan said.  “Your attempt failed so just think this through. You don’t really want to kill someone, do you?” Alan asked. _

 

_ “I won’t be satisfied until i get my memories back!” Ginger screamed as she picked up the knife and ran towards Alan at the wall.  Alan ducked out of the way and she stumbled into the wall. Taking the opportunity to knock her out and stop her murder attempt, he grabbed his camera and bashed her over the head with it as hard as he could.  He winced as he heard a sickening crack and saw Ginger fall to the ground, blood oozing from her head. _

 

_ Alan bent down beside her and examined the wound.  He gingerly touched her scalp and felt a huge bump and cracks in her skull.  He grabbed her wrist and felt her pulse. There was none. She was dead. _

 

_ “O-oh crap.  I killed her!  This isn’t good,” Alan cried.  “But it’s okay right? I’m not in trouble.  Yeah, I hit her in self-defense, that’s all.  I didn’t mean for my strike to kill her. I’m not at fault.  I can fix this,” he rambled. “I just have to take care of the body first…” _

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“So that’s what happened,” Alan finished.

 

“But why hide her plan to kill you?  You should have just told us! You could have told me!” Leon demanded.

 

Alan started to cry.

 

“I didn’t want anyone to hate her for being a killer! I know it’s disrespectful to talk ill of the dead, so I wanted everyone to believe that she died innocent.  I wanted you guys to remember her for the person she was, her hopes, her dreams, her quirks, all of that. I didn’t want anyone to see her differently. If she were still alive, she would have been heartbroken if you guys hated her.  I promised to protect her, but I guess I screwed up big time, huh?” Alan said. “I’m pathetic.”

 

_ Both Alan and Ginger were both suffering.  How couldn’t I have seen it? I’m responsible for everyone’s safety and well-being and yet… _

 

“That story’s still a load of crap,” Capone snorted.  “Do you honestly expect me to believe that?”

 

“Hey, back off!” Nara retorted.  “He feels bad about what he did! Now you’re just being an asshole!”

 

“No, Capone’s right.” Leon said solemnly.  “If he didn’t mean to kill her, then why hide her body in my cell?  Why go through all that trouble to frame me? I thought Alan and I were friends, but I guess I was a fool.  My friends always stab me in the back, so why should now be any different?”

 

_ Leon, what happened to you?  I understand that his betrayal hurts, but what do mean by “your friends always stab you in the back”? _

 

“But I didn’t-”

 

“You didn’t what?  Didn’t mean to erase evidence at the scene of the crime?  Didn’t mean to drag Ginger’s body to Leon’s cell? Didn’t mean to use the spare key to open the trunk and smash his guitar to frame him?  Unless you’re some sort of brain-dead ape, then those all sounds like conscious decisions to me instead of some half-assed mistakes,” Maisy commented.

 

“Shut up you ingrates!  Your little pity party has gone on long enough!” Monodog snapped.  “We’ve prepared a very special punishment for Alan Merkowitz, the no good sleazy photographer who just couldn’t keep his hands off of a woman,” the dog cackled.  The other Wardens smiled with twisted glee.

 

“Hey, don’t insult me like that! I- wait, did you say punishment?” Alan asked.  “But I told you! It was an accident!”

 

“Accident or not, you still killed someone and it’s time to pay the piper.  And I’m not talking about using Monocoins,” Monohawk said with a laugh.

 

“Yep, yep, yep!  It’s time to pay with your life!  You got caught so it’s time to be punished!  Strict laws require strict consequences!” Monocat remarked.

 

“Better pray to God before you get sent to hell,” Monopig added.

 

“Y-You can’t do this!” Alan cried as the walls behind him opened up and a metal chain shot out, snapping a collar around his neck.  The chain then started to retract.

 

“No.  No! No! NO!  I refuse to die!” Alan declared as he struggled to stop himself from being dragged off.  “Blake! We’re friends, right? Hurry up and save me! Friends are supposed to help friends, right?  So do it!” he called desperately.

 

Begrudgingly, I tipped my fedora over my eyes to ignore his gaze.

 

_ I can’t do this.  I can’t. _

 

"Let's give it everything we've got!" The Wardens announced in unison.  "It's... PUNISHMENT TIME!"

 

“You bastards!  I thought we were friends!” Alan called as the chain started to drag him away again.  “You’re all going to stab me in the back when I need you most? “TRAITORS!” he screamed as he was yanked backwards and the doors slammed shut, sealing his fate.

 

The giant screen flickered to life and displayed a pixelated sprite of Alan being dragged by his neck by pixelated versions of the Wardens.  As they moved off-screen, a message appeared that read:

 

**Alan Merkowitz has been found guilty.**

**Time for the punishment!**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The references in the last chapter were to a common superstition people once held towards cameras. People used to believe that if someone took your picture, the camera would steal your soul. The other references is the "dead man's party line", which is a reference to the Oingo Boingo song "Dead Man's Party." God, how I love that band.
> 
> The execution chapter should be posted by tomorrow or Tuesday. I apologize, but i want the punishment to stand out in its own right without being pushed into the middle or end of a chapter.
> 
> The last part of the trial (the aftermath) should be uploaded by Friday or Saturday. Then, Chapter 1 will be complete! Yay! There's one Danganronpa reference in this chapter. Try to spot it.


	17. Chapter 1 Execution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very short but I thought that having the execution by itself would be more impactful. Next chapter is the aftermath of the trial and execution and will conclude chapter 1. Yay! Thank you so much for everyone who has stuck with the story so far.

Alan was dragged down a long and dark corridor, clutching the collar around his neck as it choked him.  He looked behind him fearfully as another set of doors opened and he was dragged there.

 

The chain yanked his neck again and he was forced onto a small wooden stool in a dimly lit room.  The chain was removed from his nec and disappeared as metal cuffs appeared from the stool legs and snapped around Alan’s legs, binding him to the stool.  His arms were also cuffed to his lap to prevent him from struggling and to put him in some sort of pose.

 

The lights flickered on as the room was revealed to be the location of a photo shoot.  There were two scantily robotic women who walked over to Alan and wrapped themselves around his arms.  Normally, Alan would be grinding with perverted delight at something like this but now he was sweating with fear.

 

Then, the Wardens popped up with large digital cameras in their hands and they started laughing with delight.

  
  


**Time For Your Close-Up**

 

Monodog snapped a picture with his camera and a bullet shot out of the lens.  It whizzed right past Alan’s shoulder and nicked him, leaving a small cut. The stool started to spin around as the other Wardens joined in and started taking their own pictures.  Bullet after bullet flew towards Alan and shot his arms, legs, neck, chest, back, and anywhere else but his heart or brain. The stool began to spin around faster as the Wardens started taking pictures at a rapid fire rate, assaulting Alan with wave after wave of bullets.  The robotic women were soon shot into mechanical pieces. The bullets were fired even faster as the stool began spinning at an alarming speed. Alan looked like he was on the verge of death when the pictures and spinning finally stopped. He had a dizzy look on his face as he tried not to vomit.  He was oozing blood from countless bullet wounds all over his body and looked like he had crawled to hell and back. He was directly facing the Wardens, who pulled out a giant camera. They pressed the button and the shutter shot out a cannonball from the lens. The cannonball sped right towards his stomach.  As the cannonball made impact, a strange metal object flew away from Alan and slashed Monodog’s head clean off. As the other Wardens stared at Monodog’s headless body in horror, the cannonball travelled right through Alan’s stomach, leaving a massive hole in his body. The metal cuffs clicked open as Alan slumped off of the stool dead.  A white object fluttered from the big camera and fell onto the floor and Monohawk picked it up.. The object was a photograph that showed the final look of pure terror on Alan’s face before he died. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Danganronpa reference in the last chapter speaks for itself but for those who were unaware, I referenced Sayaka Maizono being killed in the bathroom.
> 
> Is Monodog really dead? We'll see...
> 
>  
> 
> Comment, leave kudos, bookmark, etc. if you enjoyed. I appreciate any and all feedback.


	18. Chapter 1 Prison Trial Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout from the first trial and the execution.

“Gyah!  What the hell was that?” Ayla screamed.  “T-that wasn’t right! That’s screwed up!”

 

“How c-cruel.  He was our friend and he died like...that,” Rachane said, passing out from the gory sight we had all just witnessed.

 

“Yeah, yeah, who cares about your feelings?” Monohawk snapped.  “Something killed Monodog!”

 

“Gyah!  What do we do?” Monocat yelled.

 

“Nothing, ya dumbasses! Here I am!” Monodog announced as a new Monodog popped up out of the ground.

 

“Yay! You’re okay!  I thought for second there that Monohawk would have to lead.  He’s such a stick in the mud,” Monocat said.

 

“Hey!  I’m not a stick in the mud!” Monohawk retorted.

 

“Hey, that’s my missing knife,” Monopig commented as he picked up the metal object.  “Where did this come from?”

 

“I see.  So he really did try to cover up Ginger’s murder attempt.  He even hid the knife by carrying it on his skin,” Liz commented.

 

“Well, now I’m keeping it.  And you’re now forbidden from entering the kitchen without me there,” Monopig fumed.  “The nerve of some people.”

 

“Shut it!  You’re ruining the good vibes!  This punishment was EXTREME! I still feel the rush!  I might need a little alone time to work off all this pent-up tension, if you know what I mean!” Monodog cackled.

 

“I must agree, you really outdid yourself.  This is the best punishment I’ve seen in a while, and the last one I saw was that mime getting crushed by an invisible box,” Monohawk commented.

“A while?  They’ve seen other punishments like this?  There must have been more killing games before this one, right?  I see, I see.” Mason mumbled.

 

“At least it’s over now,” Cang said.  “No more of this! I can’t take it! An eye for an eye… just like the Triads.”

 

“Wait, wait, wait.  Done? You really think this is over just because your precious little friend died?” Monodog sneered.  “You must be bigger morons than I thought! The game’s only just begun!”

 

“What are you talking about?” I demanded.  “We got through your twisted trial, and after seeing what happens to killers,nobody will try to kill ever again.”

 

“Such naivety.  Do you really think the game ends now?  Remember what the rules say,” Monohawk stated.

 

“Yep!  The Inmate Reduction Program will only end when there’s one prisoner left standing!  It’s a battle royale in the truest sense of the word,” Monocat added.

 

“This killing game can only end with one survivor, whether it’s through playing the game to the end or getting everyone else killed,” Monopig said.

 

“Besides, this is only the first motive.  We have many more delightful motives to give to you all!  This marks the start of something fun! Murder and suspense at every twist and turn!  Gahahaha! I can’t wait to see you all here again! We already have a killer new motive planned for you,” Monodog said.

 

“Wait, I have to-”

 

“BYE-BYE!  TRY NOT TO DIE!”

  


With that, the Wardens vanished, leaving all of us to reflect on the events that had just unfolded.

_Damn it.  They left before they could answer my question._

 

“Welp.  I’m going to take Rachnae to her cell,” Nara said.  “She’s out like a light. She won’t be getting up anytime soon.  Besides, I’ve spent more time around all of you than I would have liked to.”

 

With that, Nara and Rachane took the elevator back up and disappeared, leaving twelve of us remaining.

 

Emile approached me and put his hand on my shoulder.  

 

“You did the right thing.  You remained strong and kept moving forward, not matter how hard the truth might have been.  You’re a true leader,” Emile said.

 

“You don’t seem every shaken up by watching our friend die,” Ayla said, glaring at him.  “The least you could do is pretend that you’re upset.”

 

“Oh, I feel depressed by Alan and Ginger’s deaths.  Appalled even. But I won’t let that bother me right now.  I’ll mourn for them in my own way. I’m just glad that we’re all still alive,” Emile said.

 

“If it wasn’t for me, none of this would’ve happened,” Serenity lamented.  “It’s all my fault.”

 

“How is this any of your fault?  Don’t try to play the ‘woe is me pity card,’” Maisy snapped.

 

“I was the last person to see Alan before the murder.  I was a little bit suspicious of him and should have stayed behind.  If I stayed, Ginger wouldn’t have died and Alan wouldn’t have been executed.  Instead, now I have the blood of two more people on my hands. It’s a sin I can’t escape from.”

 

“Hey!  Quit beating yourself up!” Ayla demanded.  “It’s not your fault, so stop putting yourself down.”  She turned to face all of us. “Their deaths were tragic, sure, but we shouldn’t beat ourselves up.  I’m sure they wouldn't want that. I’m going to treasure the time I had with them rather than dwell on the fact that they’re gone.”

 

She pulled out a photograph from her pocket and she stared at it.

 

“That’s what Alan would want, at least.”

 

“They died because they were fools,” Capone interjected.  “Amateurs who wanted to kill but didn’t have the right mentality.  In order to kill, one must be willing to kill. That fucking pervert was just begging to be executed.  Such a sloppy crime. I can do much better than him.”

 

“What are you talking about?  You saw what happened to Alan!  You’ll get killed like that if you try anything.  You just told us you might commit murder,” I snapped.  “You’re just painting a target on your back.”

 

“Maybe, maybe not.  I’m sick of talking to you though.  See you assholes around.”

 

With that, Capone calmly walked to the elevator with his hands in his pockets whistling as he vanished from the courtroom.  Everyone else but Liz and Leon followed suit.

 

Leon still had a sullen expression on his face and said nothing.  I put my hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

 

“Will you be okay?” I asked him.

 

“H-hell yeah!” he shouted, trying to show some false bravado.  “I’m fine. It’s not as if he was my friend or anything. He’s just an ass who tricked me.”

 

“You and I both know that that’s wrong,” I calmly stated.  “You’re upset that he screwed you over even though you were close friends. Even now, you still see him as a friend.”

 

“Hey!  That’s a little harsh to say!  Why should I care about him when he only cared about himself?” Leon shouted.

 

“Because he was selfless.  Why else do you think he tried to cover up Ginger’s murder attempt?  He just got scared of the consequences and tried to pin the blame on someone else.  He had a lapse in judgement. Everyone screws up once in a while,” I explained.

 

“None of that shit matters anymore.  I know who my true friends are now. I’ve got a new best friend,” Leon said, shrugging aside my explanation.

 

“Really?  Who?” I asked.

 

“You, dumbass!”  Leon put his arm around my shoulder.  “Consider us bros now. Only a true friend would stand by another friend and protect them in times of need- and even death.  You were adamant in proving that I wasn't the killer and believed in me the entire time. I can tell we’re gonna get along great.  We’ll be a better duo than Simon and Garfunkel!” Leon declared.

 

_Ugh, Leon might be a decent guy, but he’s so loud and a little clingy.  I don’t think we’ll be best friends, let alone close friends._

 

He turned to Liz too.  

 

“Don’t think I’ll forget how you helped me by exposing the killer.  You’re one hell of a woman! Quiet as a fucking mouse, sure, but always ready to speak up when people are counting on her.”

 

“It’s nothing.  I didn’t want to die, so I simply revealed the truth since no one else knew who the culprit was.  I’m really not someone you should count on,” Liz said, trying to refute his compliment.

 

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Leon told her.  “I’m going to head back to my cell. It still might be about 8 p.m. or so, but I want to try to get some sleep.  God knows if I’ll even catch one fucking z thinking about Ginger’s body being dragged into my cell. See you guys tomorrow.”

 

With that, Leon left the courtroom too.

“He’s right, you know.  Thank you for what you did,” I told Liz.

 

“You shouldn’t be thanking me.  Like I just said, I’m not somebody to rely on.  I didn’t reveal the truth for anyone’s sake but my own,” she countered.  

 

“Could you at least try to open up a little bit?  We could use your smarts to get us out of this hellish situation.  Everyone here isn’t so bad… well, there are a few exceptions. Still, be a little more trusting in others.  You put your trust in me, and look what happens. We may have seen a friend die, but we all get to live for at least another day.  Think about that. Have a good night,” I told her as I pulled my fedora over my eyes and left her alone, beginning a lonely ascent upwards.  

 

In the elevator, I started to cry.  

 

_Why did this have to happen?  Two of our friends are now dead and the killing game is just getting started.  I might not have known Ginger very well, but I knew that she had dreams of becoming a doctor.  She was a woman who sold her body to make money for education and her dream. Alan was a dreamer too.  Sure, he was a pervert who loved women too much, but underneath all of that, he was a pleasant guy. He was the type of person you could tell your secrets too and not feel embarrassed.  He was trusting and a great guy to have on your side. All he wanted to do was survive and become a real photographer, one focused on nature and life instead of women. He had the talent to go far and the ambition to succeed.  Both of you, I’m sorry. I failed you as a leader and a friend. I’ll keep on living, for your sake._

 

I pulled out the picture that Alan took from the party and looked at everyone’s smiling faces.

 

_Alan, Ginger, I promise to preserve your memory and keep everyone else safe.  We won’t let another murder happen. And maybe, just maybe, we could make even more memories together like the ones from the party.  Monodog, I refuse to give into despair. I’ll make it out alive with everyone else! Count on it!_

 

**Chapter 1: Everybody’s New Prison Life END**

 

**Remaining Prisoners: 14**

 

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, that's a wrap on Chapter 1. Thank you so much for sticking with me, my readers! The story will only get better from here. The pacing for Chapter 2 and the rest of the story will be a lot better (I'll admit that this chapter's pacing wasn't that good). There will only be more murders, more punishments, and more mystery from here on out. Characters will also get more screen time and development (as well as a certain red bear making his appearance and impact on the story).
> 
> I may post a chapter featuring all FTE events (there's one featured in the story for both Alan and Ginger, but they'll be one or two more events if I post a bonus chapter).
> 
> I don't know when Chapter 2 will start up or how long it will take for the first part of Chapter 2 to be uploaded. Be patient and I look forward to posting again soon, whether it's Chapter 2 or a bonus FTE chapter for the killer and victim.


	19. Bonus Free Time Events (Ginger and Alan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This took a long time to write, but I'm happy with the results. I've decided that for each chapter that concludes, I'll write a compilation of every FTE for the killer and victim. I want to expand upon the characters and flesh them out a bit more and I feel the this is the way to do that. Sorry if it's a bit long.
> 
> Fun fact: I now have songs that I listen to when writing FTEs for each character.
> 
> The song I listened to while writing Alan's other two Free Time Events was "Pretty Woman" by Van Halen.  
> The song I listened to while writing GInger's other FTE was "Killer Queen" by Queen.
> 
> These songs really fit the characters and their personalities and I was happy to jam out while writing.

**Alan Merkowitz FTE # 1**

 

When I reached the gym, I saw Alan lifting the heavy barbells.  He saw me and called me over.

 

“Hey Blake,” he grunted.  “Could you help spot me? I could use a partner.  These are pretty heavy.”

 

“Sure thing.  Maybe I could have a turn too.  It’s been a while since I lifted weights.  I guess now is as good as anytime to get back into it.  We’re gonna be here for who knows how long,” I said.

 

_Alan and I spent a few hours lifting weights and talking about weight lifting, photography, and our interests.  I feel like Alan and I became what he calls “exercise bros”._

 

“I’ve got a question for you, Alan,” I stated.

 

“Go ahead.  If we’re friends, it makes sense that we should learn more about each other?  What do you want to know?” he asked.

 

“Why are you so obsessed with women?” I asked him.

 

“That’s a bit of a tough question.  That’s like asking Picasso why he paints or Leonardo Dicaprio why he acts.  It’s my art form,” he replied.

 

“Huh?  Your art?”

 

“Yep, every artist has a specific subject they focus on.  As a photographer, my specialty is snapping pictures of women.  You see, I believe that women are the ones who truly made the world what it is today.  Think about it. Without women, you and I wouldn’t be alive since there would be no one to bring us into the world,” Alan explained.

 

“I get it.  You see women as an important part of society,” I replied.

 

“Exactly.  You see, I believe that each and every woman has an innate inner beauty to them.  My photography tries to capture that radiance and glow. Of course, it helps if the woman is beautiful on the outside with long legs, a tight waist, a firm ass, massive bouncy-”

 

“I get it,” I said, cutting him off.  “Is there any reason why you’re a pervert though?”

 

“That’ s a pretty blunt thing to say,” he said with a frown.  “But, it’s just the way I am. I’m happy with who I am and don’t regret a thing.  Once you’ve seen the amount of panties I have, you never go back to a tame man’s lifestyle,” Alan replied.  

 

“And what about your other photography?  You told me about your trip to Hawaii before.  You must be pretty passionate about nature too,” I said.

 

“Well, that’s a good point. I-” Alan started as he glanced up at the clock.  “Holy crap. It’s almost time for dinner! Sorry, but we’ll have to cut this short.  I want to take a shower first and eat later. I’ll see you around though,” Alan said as he dashed off.

 

_It feels like I understand Alan a little bit better.  He definitely has an artist’s point of view, no matter how lecherous that view might be at times._

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Alan Merkowitz FTE # 2**

 

I was strolling down the hallway and saw Alan walking out of his cell.  I had no plans in mind, so I decided to strike up a conversation with him.  

 

“Hi Alan.  Are you doing anything right now?” I asked.

 

“Oh, hey Blake.  I was just about to take some pictures.  Wanna tag along?” he said.

 

“Sure, that sounds like it could be fun,” I replied.

 

_Alan and I spent some time wandering around the prison and taking pictures of various places and people.   He even taught me a little bit about photography. I feel like Alan and I bonded a lot._

 

When we returned to the Male Prisoner Ward, I asked him about his other type of photography.

 

“Oh yeah.  I forgot about that.  Our time was cut short last time so I never told you about my nature photography.  I’ll never forget the first trip I took,” he sighed nostalgically. “I’ve always been into photography as long as I can remember.  Hell, for my tenth birthday, I received a FujiFilm XT-2. I always saw myself as an amateur and I worked for multiple magazines as a photographer.  My first major assignment I received was from National Geographic.”

 

“You worked for National Geographic?” I asked.  “That’s pretty impressive.”

 

“I know.  When they contacted me, I thought they were joking.  A few of the magazines I worked for were nature magazines and I always thought that those assignments were average.  But when I realized that National Geographic saw that I had talent, I felt proud of myself. They sent me to Hawaii to shoot some photos for a piece about the native wildlife living there.  So, they sent me there on an all-expenses-paid trip and it was an incredible experience. They loved my photos so much that they sent me back a few more times. I never felt more proud of myself,” Alan shared.  Then, his expression hardened.

 

“But that was until.. I became desperate for cash.  When I succumbed to my urges and shot all of those smutty images.”

 

“I see.  So that’s when you took all of those illicit photos,” I said.

 

“Yeah.  I’ve always been a pervert, but this started when I was at my lowest point,” he frowned as he recounted his tale.  “On the very last trip National Geographic sent me on, I met a beautiful native woman. We fell in love and had the most wonderful time together.  She showed me the most scenic parts of the state and then we made love under the sunset. On my final day there, I begged her to return home with me, but she refused.  She couldn’t leave her family behind. As a parting gift, she let me take a nude picture of her so I could remember the times we shared out in nature and the intimacy we held towards each other.  Heartbroken, I flew home and sifted through the National Geographic pictures. I uploaded them all online and thought nothing of it. The next day, I received a furious email from National Geographic about why I uploaded a photo of a nude woman.  I was confused until I took another look at the photos. Then, I realized that I accidentally uploaded the photo of the woman along with my nature photos. National Geographic refused to pay me and I fell into a brief depression. Financially, I was in a shitty place and National Geographic refusing to pay made things worse.  A week or so after the fiasco, I got a letter from an adult magazine saying they liked my photo of the woman and wanted more sexual pieces like that. At first, I was against the idea, but then I realized that I needed the money and my love of women got the best of me so…”

 

He paused for a moment.

 

“I’d rather not finish this story right now.  I’m feeling pretty upset thinking about all of this,” Alan frowned.

 

“Sorry to tear into old wounds,” I apologized.

 

“No, no.  It’s fine.  It’s my fault,” Alan said.

 

I thanked Alan for sharing something so personal with me and left him alone.

 

_I’m starting to see how Alan got into his illegal activities.  He’s a man who made a poor mistake and was desperate to support himself.  I feel like Alan and I grew a lot closer. Perhaps we’re almost true friends now._

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**Alan Merkowitz FTE # 3**

 

Once again, I was bored and wandered around the prison looking for something fun to do.  I decided to go to the rec room and read a magazine when I saw Alan sitting at one of the tables alone.  I decided to try to talk to him and find out the rest of his story.

 

“Hey Alan.  What’s up?”

 

Alan sat in silence and looked uncomfortable.

 

“What’s wrong?  DId something happen?” I asked.

 

“No,” he sighed.  “It’s just that… well, I have a question for you.”

 

“Ask away.”

 

“Okay.  What would you say if I told you that I’m thinking of giving up my perverted business and going back to being a nature photographer?” Alan shared.

 

“I’d say that’s good for you.  You want to pursue your passion.  Ayla would say something like ‘If you follow your passion, you’ll never stray from your life’s path,’” I said with a chuckle.

 

“Yeah.  But I don’t think I’d be able to.  I’m too weak-willed,” Alan said.

 

“Nonsense.  You’re strong.  You can do whatever you put your mind to,” I said.

 

“No, no.  I can’t. The reason I started my illicit business is because I made a ton of money off of snapping raunchy photos of women.  I told you that last time. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. Women are like a drug and I’m just an addict. I can’t resist glancing at a fine ass or drooling at the sight of a smoking hot babe.  That’s not just in my work, that’s in my life too,” Alan frowned.

 

“You just need someone to help keep you focused.  If you want to be a nature photographer, you’ll need to forget about women,” I said.

 

“Yeah, you’re right.  I need someone to help me,” Alan said.  Suddenly, he gave me a huge smile. “Hey, when we get out of here, can you be my assistant?  I could use somebody like you to keep me on track!”

 

“I’d be happy to,” I said.  “I don’t remember what I did before prison but I do know that I’d definitely help you out.  That’s what friends do.”

 

“All right!  When we get out of here, you’ll help me curb my perverted tendencies and keep me focused on my work.  Who knows? Maybe once we’re free, I can ask Ginger out and take her on a proper date,” Alan grinned.

 

“You like Ginger?  Can’t say I’m surprised,” I said.

 

“Yeah, she’s just my kind of woman.  With your help, I can be a true gentleman and get all of the ladies to fall for me.”

 

“Slow down there,” I said with a laugh.  “Take things one step at a time.”

 

_I can’t believe that Alan trusts me with his dream like this.  He’s a different man than I thought he was but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re friends.  No, I guess I could say that we’re true friends now. I’ll help Alan become the best nature photographer ever once we’re released from here._

 

_Alan and I now have a deep bond with each other._

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**Ginger FTE # 1**

 

Let’s see.  I wonder who’s available to spend some time with.  After a few minutes of walking, I bumped into Ginger and she fell to the ground.

 

“Oh my.  I’m so sorry.  Are you okay?” I asked her.

 

“No problem.  I’ve dropped to my knees before, if you know what I mean,” she purred

 

I started blushing and she gave a little laugh.  I guess I could ask her if she wants to hang out.

 

“Hey, do you wanna hang out?  We could get to know each other a little better,” I asked her.

 

“Oh, so you’re one of those sort of men?  I honestly didn’t peg you as the type to get to know women intimately like that,” she said.

 

“T-that’s not what I meant and you know it!  You’re making me look as bad as Alan!” I exclaimed.

 

“I know.  I was just teasing you.  It’s fun to mess with men sometimes.  They can be so easy to rile up. I’ll hang out with you.  Let’s take a little walk around the prison. I could use some exercise,” she said.

 

And so, Ginger and I walked around the prison a little bit and went to her room afterwards.

 

“Here.  I won this from the Monomono Machine and thought you might like it,” I said, handing her the makeup kit.  

 

“Oh, it’s simply beautiful.  It’ll be nice to pretty myself up every now and then,” she replied.

 

“You really care about your looks, don’t you?” I asked her.

 

“Yeah.  I like to flaunt what I’ve got.  I’m not ashamed of how I look. That’s just the way it is with prostitution,” she replied sadly.

 

“You said before that you became a prostitute to pay for college, right?”

 

“Yeah.  I’m studying to be a nurse.  Or at least, I was until I was arrested for prostitution.  Heh. They called me the ‘Runaway Bombshell.’ The state authorities even put a small bounty over my head,” she said.

 

“Wait.  Why would they put a bounty over your head for something like that?” I asked.

 

“It’s because I also robbed all of the men I slept with.  I not only made money from my services but I also made some extra cash stealing.  I needed all of the money I could get,” she explained. “After all, I attended one of the most expensive and prestigious nursing schools in the country.  Tuition cost at least $35,000 a year, not including food, books, etc.”

 

“I see.  So you’ve been paying for your education with your body,” I said.  “How did you focus on school with all of that going on?”

 

“I’m a lot smarter than I look.  I’m one of the top in my class. Of course, that doesn't mean much when you’re in your late twenties and everyone else is younger and less mature than you.  There aren't even any good college guys on campus. I have a taste for mature men,” she said.

 

“Why didn't you go to college when you were younger?  Wouldn’t that make more sense?”

 

“My parents didn’t have the money.  We were a poor working class family and I had to work twenty hours a week just so my parents could bring in enough income to support us each month.  But that’s okay. At least now I’m chasing my dreams of becoming a nurse. That’s all that matters,” Ginger explained.

 

“But why prostitution?” I asked.

 

“Oh.  It's because I love attention.  I just can't get enough attention.  I love it when a man compliments my body or falls head over heels for me.  I feel like a princess. It does help me hide my true self too,” she said.

 

“True self?  What do you-”

 

“I’m feeling kind of tired right now.  I’m going to take a nap. But stop by anytime you want.  Maybe we could get to know each other on a… deeper level next time,” she whispered, clinging to my arm and caressing my cheek.  I started blushing furiously and she laughed.

 

“Just teasing.  God, I love doing that.  See you later,” she said as I exited her cell and she closed the door.

 

_That was… fun, I guess.  What did Ginger mean by ‘her true self’?  Is there something she doesn't want to tell me?  Whatever the case, I feel like I got to know her a little better._

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**Ginger FTE # 2**

 

I was wandering the halls with nothing to do and started whistling “Myla Goldberg”.  As I passed the Female Prisoner Ward, I saw Ginger laying flat on the ground. Her arms were outstretched and she squinted as she gingerly felt around on the ground for something.  I decided to approach her and see if she wanted any help.

 

“Need a hand?” I asked her.

 

She looked at me, her face still scrunched up in a squint.

 

“Is that you Blake?”  She stood up and started patting my body.  “It is you.”

 

“Uh, is this supposed to be something sexual?  I’m not really interested,” I said with a blush creeping onto my face.

 

“Only if you want it to be,” Ginger remarked.  “But I seriously could use your help. I was on my way to the rec room when I decided to return to my cell quickly to grab a few Monocoins in case anyone wanted to make a bet at the dealer table.  Before I could reach my cell, I tripped and dropped something really important.”

 

“What did you lose?” I asked.

 

“I’ll tell you later.  Now help me look,” she said.

 

“Alright, alright, no need to be bossy,” I sighed.

 

_Ginger and I spent a good half hour searching every inch of the hallway as carefully as possible but we couldn’t find anything._

“I guess they’re gone.  That’s a shame,” Ginger sighed.

 

“What were we looking for anyway?” I asked.

 

“Promise me you won’t laugh,” Ginger said.

 

“Why would I laugh?  I don’t even know what we wasted time looking for,” I remarked.

 

“Hey!  You agreed to help me!” Ginger said with an annoyed huff.

 

“Okay, okay.  I promise not to laugh.  Now tell me what we were looking for,” I said.

 

“I have something to show you first.  I’ll be right back,” Ginger said.

 

Still squinting, Ginger ran to her cell with a few minor crashes along the way.  She entered her cell and closed the door. I could hear rustling coming from the room and she emerged a minute later.  She was wearing a pair of tan and black tortoiseshell glasses.

 

“I’m embarrassed to say it, but I wear glasses, geeky glasses,” Ginger said.  “We were looking for my contact lenses that fell out. I wear those whenever I’m in public but wear these whenever I’m at home.  It suits the real me.”

 

“Huh? The real you?” I asked.

 

“Yeah.  The truth is that the real me isn’t some sexy and sex-crazed vixen.  I’m just a beautiful geek who loves comics and sci-fi. I live for _Space Odyssey_ and classic H.G. Wells novels.  Pretty embarrassing, right?” Ginger asked as if she were ashamed.

 

“Don’t be embarrassed.  Just be yourself. Underneath your seductive front, I can tell that you’re a loving person who just loves to mess with people.  You like to flirt because it makes you feel special, right?” I said.

 

“Yeah.  I love the attention I get.  When I was in middle school, I was a complete geek.  I was ugly and riddled with acne. I was frequently bullied for my looks and hobbies.  By the end of middle school, I matured and became the beauty you see today. I attended a high school outside of my home town and nobody there knew me.  So, I reinvented myself as a flirtatious tease who would do anything for boys. I was finally popular and everyone seemed to like the new me. I told you before that I became a prostitute to make money for nursing school, but I also dove into the business to make myself feel better.  Without that life, I’m just me,” she revealed.

 

“Nonsense.  I told you before that you’re fine the way you are.  So what if you’re nerdy? Everybody has something they’re embarrassed about.  I’m a huge fan of Taylor Swift and own all of her albums. But that doesn’t mean I hide my love for her music,” I shared.

 

“Hahahaha!  That _is_ embarrassing.  But I get what you’re saying.  I should embrace who I am. I’ll do that from now on.  Thank you for giving me confidence Blake,” Ginger said.  She gave me a big hug and we parted ways.

 

_Ginger opened herself up so much to me.  I had no idea that she lacked self-confidence in herself and hid behind a persona.  I’m glad that I helped her see that the real her is just as good as the act she puts on.  I can’t wait to get to know the real her. I have a feeling everyone else will accept her true self too.  Though I am kind of embarrassed that I told her that I love Taylor Swift. I just hope she doesn’t tell anybody…_

 

_Ginger and I became true friends today._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this suffices until I post the first part of Chapter 2. I plan for it to be fairly long but not overly long. Things will only get better from there. The chapter should be out in a week or a week and a half.


	20. Chapter 2- Part 1 (Daily Life)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wardens hold a very important meeting with one of their investors. Tensions rise between prisoner and captor, the fifth Warden is introduced and the group might find themselves one member short.

“Looks like things are running according to plan so far.”

 

A man wearing an ironed navy blue suit and red slacks held a glass of whiskey in his hands and took a sip.  He slouched backward in his velvet chair as he prepared for a casual business conversation. The man was well-built with broad shoulders yet he had a very unassuming face.  He had sunken and weary-looking muddy brown eyes slightly covered by a mop of jet black hair. His cheeks were dusted with freckles and his ears were larger than an average person’s ears.  At first glance, he could be mistaken for an athlete due to his frame or for a businessman due to his tired face.

 

In fact, he was a businessman.  He was a poor mathematician and did not have much experience in the financial world, yet he oozed charisma and confidence.  He had a commanding yet alluring voice that drew people towards him. He was a master of persuasion and worked his way to the top as CEO of Eye of The Tiger, a multimillion dollar surveillance company, in a single year using just his voice and confidence alone.  He was also an investor and tended to invest his money based on his gut feeling, which turned out to be correct 95% of the time. His most recent investment was in Dangan Maximum Security Prison and his company owned the private prison and provided the surveillance cameras to monitor the prisoners.  

 

His name was Donovan Mellow.

 

“You said that the first murder would take place in three or four days and so would the first punishment  You’re right on schedule,” Donovan said.

 

“Hell yeah!” Monodog exclaimed.  “And this is just the tip of the iceberg!  There’s so much more to come that the prisoners won’t even know what hit ‘em.  They’ll sink into despair like the fucking Titanic!”

 

Monodog sat in an identical chair across from Donovan and held his own beverage in his paws.  Monohawk, Monocat, and Monopig stood by the arms of the chair and grinned eagerly as Monodog gave the status report.

 

“Excellent.  And what exactly are the other motives you have prepared?” Donovan asked as he took another sip of whiskey.  

 

“What is this, some sort of interrogation?” Monohawk snapped.  “Let us do our jobs in our own way.”

 

“Yeah!  Motives are like putting on shoes!  We worry about them one at a time!” Monocat added.

 

“Pretty big demands coming from an outsider to the killing game,” Monopig mumbled.

 

“I may be an outsider, but I represent a larger group.  The very same group of people who are investing their hard-earned cash into the Inmate Production Program and the entire facility.  The same group allowing you to host your experimental little program in the first place. Who else do you think gave you the location for the prison?” Donovan said.  “All we want is results. It’s been a few days and we’re barely turning a profit. The board wants you to speed up the game and do whatever it takes to maximise profits.  Rent out advertising space, find corporate sponsors, get rid of costly Prison Trials. They don’t really care what you do as long as they get their money’s worth.”

 

“SCREW YOU DONOVAN!” Monodog screamed.  At this point. Monodog was absolutely livid.  The other Wardens had angry sneers on their faces too.  “You and all of those other fat cat investors can suck it!  You’re a fucking brain dead moron if you think you can meet with me and say a bunch of rich assholes are telling me how to run _my_ prison.  The Inmate Reduction Program isn’t at all about the money!  It’s about something greater than all of humanity! You and the rest of them are just greedy bastards!”

 

“How DARE you speak to Mr. Mellow like that, you impudent foul-mouthed little thing!” a female voice angrily shouted as Monodog was forcefully grabbed by his beck and suspended in the air.  

The woman was none other than Donovan’s secretary, Myla Goldberg.  She had a very stern expression and hardened gray eyes hidden behind brown glasses.  Her smooth blond hair was tied in a tight bun and she wore red lipstick and blue eyeshadow.  She wore a formal gray wool sweater with a yellow skirt and orange high heels. Although Myla was known for being a loyal and serious secretary who always kept her employer on track, she never hesitated to defend her boss, no matter how heated she became.

 

“You’re just a figurehead, so why are we talking to you instead of the people behind the game?” Myla demanded.

 

“BITCH! Let me down!  I’ll punish you like I punished that pervy photographer!” Monodog growled as a he squirmed to escape Myla’s grip.

 

Monohawk gave her a furious scowl.  

 

“You’re in the doghouse now.  I won’t hesitate to gouge your eyes out or feast on your intestines if you don’t stop patronizing us,” Monohawk said.  “Release the boss _this instant._  

 

“Yahaha!  I’ll turn you into a scratching post!  What makes you think you can talk to us like that?” Monocat demanded as he unsheathed his claws.

 

“We’ll turn you into mincemeat and cook ourselves a human burger,” Monopig threatened.

 

“Ahahahaha!  Such vigor! Such spirit!  I love it!” Donovan laughed.

 

“Sir?” Myla asked.

 

“Release Monodog at once, Myla.  You interrupted our meeting,” Donovan said to her with a stern expression.

 

“But sir-”

 

“ _Now_.”

 

Donovan sounded furious as Myla gulped and placed Monodog back in his chair.  She brushed off any dirt from his fur and hurried back to Donovan’s side.

 

“Sorry about her.  When she hears someone insult me, she can’t help but intervene, no matter how passionate or enraged she is,” Donovan apologized.

 

“It’s fine.  Just as long as she knows her place,” Monodog growled.

 

“Now then, back to our discussion.  I apologize for bringing up the issue of money,” Donovan said.  He took another swig and leaned forward with a jovial smile on his face.  “To tell you the truth, the other investors told me to say all of that. They’re the ones who want faster results with more money, not me.  I’m simply their representative for this meeting. If we’re being honest, I’d say that they can suck it too. They’re a bunch of greedy old men who never get laid.  They don’t understand the true worth of this game like you and I do.”

 

“Gahahaha!  I knew there was a reason I liked you Donovan!” Monodog cackled.  “From the second I met you, I thought, ‘This guys knows the finer things in life!’”

 

“You have an appreciation for the finer things, don’t you?” Monohawk commented.

 

“The Inmate Reduction Program isn’t about money or fame.  It’s about watching a bunch of losers battle it out to the death!” Monocat agreed.

 

“Are you one of them?” Monopig asked.  “Are you a Despair? Do you enjoy this game so far?”

 

“Am I Despair?  That’s a tough question,” Donovan replied.  “I’d have to say that I’m not. If you want to give me a label, I suppose you can call me an idealist.  I believe in truth, love, peace, happiness, hope, despair. All of these emotions and concepts are truly fascinating.  The secret to my financial success wasn’t shrewd penny pinching or close analysis. It was determining the conviction a person held towards an idea and seeing how far they would go to reach their goal.  This game is no different. The prisoners you selected might see this place as hell, but it’s actually an idealist’s paradise. There’s no greater feeling than watching despair in its truest and most primal state and the latent hope within humanity shine through all the hardships.  Hope and despair locked in a struggle for dominance. Will the human spirit triumph or will it die? It’s too early to tell what will happen in the end, but I can tell that the four of you will keep me and everyone else watching entertained.”

Donovan finished his whiskey and handed his glass to Myla.  

 

“Sorry for talking for so long.  I went on a bit of a tangent there.  The point is that I feel for you. I know the way you want to run things around here.  I’m just as eager to see the Inmate Reduction Program through as you are,” Donovan apologized.

 

“It’s fine,” Monodog said with a dismissive wave of his paw.  “You wanted to know the next motive, right?”

 

“You’d really tell me?” Donovan inquired.

 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Boss?” Monohawk asked.

 

“Hell yeah I’m sure!  Donovan has the same goals as we do.  Anybody as like-minded and fucked up as we are can be trusted with information like this.”

 

“Can I tell him?  Please? Please?” Monocat begged.

 

“Hell no!  As the leader, I’m the one who makes the decisions and speaks for all of us!” Monodog demanded.

 

“Aw, but I can be a leader too!  I can represent us well!” Monocat argued.

 

“Yeah, you’d represent us like fucking children so keep your mouth shut and treat me with some respect,” Monodog snapped.

 

“You’ll be the one treating _me_ with respect pretty soon,” Monocat quietly mumbled.

 

Monohawk heard this and gave Monocat a suspicious glance.  Monopig simply fell asleep and a low snore could be heard. Meanwhile, Monodog leaned forward in his chair and Donovan listened to the stuffed dog in anticipation.

 

“Tell me, Donovan.  Do you believe in sin?”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Chapter 2: More Secrets, More Lies, More Crimes (Daily Life)**

 

*ding dong bing bong*

 

“Ugh, it’s morning?  What happened? What did I do last night?” I said groggily.

 

The monitor in my room turned on and the Wardens appeared, looking as cheerful and twisted as ever.

 

“GREETINGS INMATES!”

 

“Rise and shine sleepy heads!” Monocat said.  “It’s time to get up and face the new day!”

 

“We have an important announcement to make to all of you so head to the Mess Hall as soon as possible,” Monohawk ordered.

 

“See you soon!” Monodog cackled.

 

“BYE-BYE!  TRY NOT TO DIE!”

 

With their usual farewell out of the way, the transmission ended and I was left in the silence of my cell.

 

_I guess it really is morning.  The last thing I remember is crying in the elevator after the trial.  I must have returned to my cell afterward and fell asleep. The elevator…_

 

All of yesterday’s horrific memories came flooding back to me.  Ginger’s corpse, the bitter and spiteful accusations, Alan’s breakdown, Alan’s betrayal, Alan’s gruesome death, Leon’s tears.  Yesterday was utter hell so I knew that morale would likely be low this morning. I was feeling depressed too but forced a smile on my face.  If I couldn’t bring myself to stay positive, who could?

 

I quickly threw on my clothes, placed my fedora on my head and left my cell to head to breakfast.  When I reached the Mess Hall, I saw that everybody was already eating while they waited for the Wardens to make their announcement.  The mood was very somber and quiet and nobody said a word. The only people who seemed unaffected by the mood were Audrey, who had a ditzy smile on her face, Capone, who acted unfazed by the deaths of our friends, and  Leon, who looked as if he was half-dead. I grabbed a tray of waffles and sat in an empty seat next to Leon and Emile.

 

“Are you feeling okay after what happened yesterday?  Did our talk help at all?” I asked him.

 

Leon stared blankly at me and was unresponsive.

 

“I asked you  question, Leon,” I said, snapping my fingers.

 

“Huh? What?  Oh, right,” Leon said with a yawn.  “Sorry. I didn’t sleep at all last night.  I’m a fucking zombie.”

 

“Z-zombie?  As in the undead?  How did you get infected?  How many more of you are there?” Mason shouted from his own table.

 

“Relax, ya idiot.  It’s a figure of speech.  I’m so tired that my brain’s on autopilot and I’m just shambling around.  I couldn’t sleep because I kept thinking about Ginger’s corpse and how we found her in my cell yesterday,” Leon yawned.  “But I guess our talk did help a little bit. After all, what are bros for?”

 

I ignored his comment and focused on Rachne next.  She sat in silence and hadn’t moved at all. She had a dull grief-stricken look in her eyes.

 

“Are you ok?  You passed out after the trial and Nara had to bring you back to your cell.”

 

“Y-yes, I’m fine.  Yesterday was just so cruel.  This situation still feels like a dream.  It’s too surreal to be true. People killing each other for those twisted stuffed animals’ amusement.  It’s inhumanely cruel,” Rachnae said.

 

“It’s more like a nightmare, Mom,” Emile replied as he shoveled another forkful of waffle into his mouth.  “Except it’s the kind you can’t wake up from.”

 

“GREETINGS INMATES!”

 

“Speaking of nightmares,” Maisy mumbled.

 

“Hey!  Show me some respect!  I give you bastards cushy living conditions and you treat me like dirt?  I’m a god, damn it!” Monodog complained.

 

“You’re no god.  You’re just a delusional and twisted little nuisance,” Maisy shot back.

 

Monodog jumped onto the table and waddled over to Maisy.  He leaned forward and gave her a menacing glare.

 

“Are you sure about that?  Looks can be deceiving, you know.  Just like a woman putting on makeup,” Monodog replied.

 

“Monodog's definitely a god!  He’s the saviour of those who are tired and weary of this crappy world,” Monohawk added.  “All four of us are gods.”

 

“Gods?  You? Get real,” Nara scoffed.

 

“Now, now, it’s fine if you don't believe us.  Plenty of people are atheists. We’re not your typical Good Samaritan gods though.  We’re the gods of this prison!” Monodog declared. “We rule over life and death here and can kill anyone of you at any time we want!  Your very lives are in our hands and you’re nothing but insects compared to us.”

 

“There’s plenty of people out there who worship us.  They’re watching us in all of our godly glory as we plunge you into despair.  Skreeehahahaha! Our followers love that!” Monohawk laughed.

 

“But we won’t intervene in the killing game!  That’s a Deus Ex Machina I don’t wanna pull,” Monocat added.

 

“We might be gods, but we’re nowhere nearly as holy as _him_ ,” Monopig mumbled.

 

“That’s right!  This game is all for him!  The bloodshed and despair is all for our own personal god!  The one with the whitest of hope and blackest of despair!” Monodog proclaimed.  

 

Monodog paused and turned to face all of us.

 

“And you assholes rejected our godly gift!  I might be high off of yesterday’s execution, but I’m pissed none of you wanted your memories back,” Monodog complained.

 

“Wait, what are you talking about?” I demanded.  “I was going to ask you this yesterday, but I never got the chance.  I’ll say it now. Did Alan ever get his memories back?”

 

“Nope!  Alan was sooo boring!” Monocat said.  “He refused to receive his prison memories.  He said that Ginger’s death was ‘an accident’ and ‘it felt wrong to learn something that nobody else would.’  What a loser!”

 

“Yeah, what a waste!  He could have made things interesting but chose to be a boring friendship-loving fool,” Monohawk added.

 

“What a waste of human life too.  That asshole had nothing going for him.  At least his death was entertaining! Gahahaha!” Monodog laughed.

 

Leon shot out of his chair and rushed over to Monodog.  Suddenly, he seemed alert and awake as he confronted Monodog.

 

“Hey, asshole.  What the fuck did you just say about my friend?” Leon snarled.

 

“You heard me.  He was a garbage person and a boring waste of life for this game.  At least Ginger was a backstabbing snake. Now _she_ was interesting,” Monodog calmly replied.

 

“You asshole!” Leon shouted, picking Monodog up and squeezing his plush throat.  “How dare you insult my friends! My bro was NOT worthless! He had hopes and dreams, damn it!  He was a man among men!”

 

“You insolent FOOL!” Monodog bellowed.  “Let go of me now! How dare you treat a god like this!”

 

“Can it, ya furry fuck!  You’re on a highway to hell now!” Leon declared as she squeezed tighter.

 

“That’s your destination, not mine,” Monodog mumbled.

 

Then, he shouted at the top of his lungs.

 

**“Oi, Exisal.  Get your metal ass down here!  We’ve got a rule breaker!”**

 

“You’re up, little guy!” Monohawk called.

 

Suddenly, a massive metal beast appeared.  It loomed over us at twice our height and had wires running all around its body.  It had a massive bulky humanoid left arm while its right arm was equipped with a deadly gatling gun and a buzzsaw.  Its right foot had two toes while its left foot had three toes. It had glowing red eyes and red shoulder straps on either side of its body.  A bizarre metal monkey tail protruded from behind it and the word “Exisal” was written on top of the metal hatch that lay on the front of the monster.

 

“Yahoo!  Rise and shine ursine!” its metallic voice cheerfully called.

 

“W-what the hell is that thing?” Pierre asked nervously.

 

Leon dropped Monodog and cowered in fear.

 

“This is our personal punisher!” Monodog declared.  “This Exisal of ours is a high-performance killing machine we use to punish those who break the rules around here.  I’ve been dying to use it on someone!”

 

“Go kill him, Monotaro,” Monopig said.  “He disrespected Monodog.”

 

“Huh?  Who’s Monodog?  Is it you?” the machine said, pointing at Monocat.

 

“Oh, Jesus Christ, this is why I hate the fifth Warden,” Monohawk mumbled.

 

_T-this is the fifth Warden?  The one they told us about before?  It’s terrifying!_

 

“I’m Monodog!” Monodog shouted.  “And I want you to shoot the asshole that insulted me and threatened to kill me!”

 

“IT’S… PUNISHMENT TIME!” the Wardens declared.

 

The machine stared at us then set its sights on me.  

 

“Rule breakers must be punished!” the machine declared.  “Die!”

 

“Wait, but that’s not the-” Monohawk began.

 

The gatling gun fired a barrage of bullets straight at me and I closed my eyes and anticipated my death.

 

_So this is how it all ends._

 

“Blake, move!” Leon shouted as he shoved me out of the way.  The bullets penetrated Leon’s skin and blood poured out of each hole.  Leon staggered towards me weakly.

 

“Leon, why?” I asked, tears starting to form in my eyes.

 

“Can’t let my best bro die in a shitty way like that, can I?” he grinned weakly as he collapsed on the ground and remained motionless.

 

_Leon, no.  H-he’s… dead_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the first scene of the chapter being so long. Donovan is an important character (or will be) and i wanted to do him justice in his introduction. The reason that he's an investor is because private prisons are ran by companies and people who put money into them. it's a despicable thing, so I thought the fact that Dangan Maximum Security Prison is a private prison would be perfect for the story. Also, Monotaro finally appears. Yay! He's my favorite of the Monokubs and he's going to play a very important role in the story, so expect him to appear a lot. There are also three references in this chapter, but they're all musical references. Try to spot them if you can.


	21. Chapter 2 Daily Life Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wardens reveal that a new area of the prison has opened up and reveal a surprise twist. The prisoners discuss what to do with that twist as tensions run high and Serenity's melancholic views hang heavy as hope and despair clash for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this chapter being so long and a little rambling. I planned on having half of this chapter be what you see here and half be partial exploration. However, I went on a bit of a tangent and loved Serenity and Capone's cynical realist views too much to remove them. I also apologize if the dialogue is a little repetitive. The next chapter will be exploration and a little something else too. I don't know when that chapter will be since I started working at a new job and have less time for writing. I'll try to get it done in a week or so if I can. For a little added enhancement, listen to Ghost of Tom Joad by Bruce Springsteen as you read Serenity's dialogue. The melancholic vibe of that song is PERFECT for Serenity's character.

As I stood shivering in fear, it took everyone else a few seconds to realize what just happened.  Cang dashed to Leon’s side and began examining his injuries.

 

“Holy crap!  They actually shot that idiot!  I thought they were bluffing about what happens when we break the rules!” Nara exclaimed.

 

“Seeing is believing, you know.  I’m surprised you haven’t picked up on it even after witnessing Alan’s execution.” Monohawk commented.

 

“What does that mean?  Just because we see something, that doesn't mean we have to accept it.  Eyes are meant to show the facts, but it’s what we make of them that matters,” Ayla declared.  “From my time on the street, I know what’s bull and what’s not.”

 

“Geez, you bastards are slower than snails!” Monodog remarked.  “There are rules in place for a reason. You either obey them or die.  It’s like the real world, but much harsher.”

 

“Zat never happens in ze real world,” Pierre said.

 

“But it’s true!  Dictators behead people who defy their reign.  Militant groups execute anyone who opposes them.  The real world is that cruel. But our own little world here is even crueler,” Monocat said.

 

“You keep referring to Dangan Maximum Security as ‘this place’ or ‘this world’.  What do you mean by that? It’s not as if we’re on another planet,” Liz asked.

 

“You’ll all find out in due time,” Monodog said.  “Now then.” Monodog turned to the Exisal and shouted furiously at it.  “What the hell was that crap? You almost shot the wrong person, dumbass!”

 

“Sorry.  You didn’t even tell me who to shoot,” the machine countered.

 

“Not an excuse!  Get your little ursine ass out here so I can scold you properly!” Monodog fumed.

  


The top hatch of the machine ceremoniously opened up and a small red and white child-like teddy bear leaped into the air and posed, punching his left hand into the air and placing his right paw on his hip.  Much like the Wardens, he had an evil and twisted left eye and a toothy grin. He had a yellow pacifier that covered the right side of his mouth and he wore a gray ninja scarf with a silver star pinned to it.

 

“There’s another one of you?  Jeez, how annoying,” Maisy complained.  

 

“OMG!  He is totes CUTE!” Audrey squealed as she ran up to hug the new Warden.

 

“Ah!  Help! She’s attacking me!” he cried as he tried to pry himself away from Audrey.

 

“Looks like Hollywood’s a hugging tick..  Better get some tweezers and pry her off,” Emile joked as Serenity stifled a laugh.

 

“Ok, put him down,” Monohawk ordered.

 

Audrey placed the little bear back on the floor and he dashed over to the Wardens and hid behind Monodog.

 

“Go on, introduce yourself,” Monodog said, pushing him away.  The bear turned and faced us.

 

“I’m Monotaro!  No matter how you say it or spell it, it’s still Monotaro!” the bear declared.

 

“So there ARE five of you,” Serenity said.  “That makes sense. There’s always five to a group.”

 

“Yep!  Five’s company and six is a crowd!” Monotaro said.

 

“You got that phrase wrong,” Monohawk complained.

 

“Don’t be such a downer, Monosuke,” Monotaro whined.  “You’re such a smartass.”

“Who’s Monosuke?  What the hell are you even talking about?  Just say what you want to say and screw off,” Capone demanded.

 

“Huh?  Who?” Monotaro asked.

 

Monodog slapped the forgetful little bear in the back the head and a small lump formed.  Monotaro started crying.

 

“Owie!  That hurt!”

 

“Damn right it should!  You almost killed the wrong person!  Luckily, Leon dove in front of Blake to protect him.  Then again, he’s so fucking predictable that I knew he would step in to take the bullet-literally,” Monodog said.  “At least he’s dead how.”

 

“A-actually, he’s still alive,” Cang said quietly.  The room fell silent and everyone, including the Wardens.

 

“I-I felt his pulse.  It’s faint but it’s there.  He’s still breathing too, but his breaths are small and shallow.”

 

“Heh.  Nice job Cang.  How do you know how to tell all of that medical stuff?” Ayla asked.

 

“I-it’s nothing special,” Cang said with a blush.  “I just have a few medical skills from my time with the Triads.  I-it’s the only good things they taught me.”

 

“So he’s still alive, huh?  That’s a pain in the ass,” Monodog complained.  “But I suppose this is fine too. It would be boring if he died without the help of the killing game.”

 

“What do we do with him now?” Monocat asked.

 

“I suppose we’ll let him live.  We’ll treat his wounds with our state-of-the-art technology to get him up on his feet and killing again in no time!” Monodog laughed.

 

“You’ll heal him?  You’ll really do that?” I asked him.

 

“Hell yeah!  But we’re only doing this so he can die in a much more fun manner,” Monodog said.

 

“Shall I call the hambulance, sir?” Monohawk asked.

 

“Don’t you mean an ambulance?” Mason asked.

 

“Nope,” Monohawk replied.  “Monopig, if you get this bastard to the Medical Ward immediately, I’ll let you pick out any type of candy you want from my sweet stash.”

 

“Twix… Reeses Cups… Three Musketeers…” Monopig drooled.  In the midst of his food-induced haste, Monopig grabbed Leon and hoisted him over his small shoulders.  I stifled a laugh as I saw Monopig carry Leon fireman style out the doors of the Mess Hall and out of sight.

 

“Where are you taking him?  He’ll be okay, right? Please say you really _will_ save him,” Rachnae said.

 

“Heh.  That’s Mom for you.  Always looking out for others as if they were her own kids,” Emile commented.

 

“I already said that we’re taking him to the Medical Ward.  Do you have cotton shoved in your ears?” Monohawk snapped.

 

“But there’s no such place  like that on our Prisoner Pads.  Are you trying to deceive us?” Mason asked.

 

“I guess now is as good of a time to make our announcement,” Monodog declared.  “Seeing as you put on one hell of a show during the Prison Trial, we’re feeling like benevolent gods today.  So, we finally got off of our asses and made some heavy renovations to our prison.”

 

“What does that mean?” Ayla asked.  “So you slapped on a new coat of paint or something.  Big deal.”

 

“Yahahaha!  That’s such a stupid thought!  Monodog means that we finally finished working on another wing of the prison!  You batards can now access the North Wing! Lucky you!” Monocat cheered.

 

“The North Wing will show up on your maps now so make sure you check your Prisoner Pads,” Monohawk said.

 

“What do you mean by a wing has been opened up?  What exactly is this place?” I demanded.

 

“Fine, I’ll give you the brief rundown of the layout.  The area we’re currently in is known as the Central Hub of the prison.  The layout of the hub is circular in design but appears to be a square. The hub contains hallways that lead to each of the other wings which are also circular in design.  There’s one wing in each direction leading from the Central Hub. The government contractors built it that way” Monohawk explained.

 

“That design sounds familiar,” Audrey commented.

 

“I guess this government hates pirates too, ” Emile joked.

 

“Yep!  And each wing of the prison is its own level of hell, each one worse than the last!” Monocat agreed.

 

“That’s Impel Down you’re thinking of, idiot!” Monohawk sighed.  “Anyway, that was our message. The North Wing is now available to all of you.  That’s also where we took Leon, so if you don’t trust us to take care of him, you can always do it yourself.”

 

“Before we leave, I have one more gift for you all.  I can see the fiery determination in your eyes and the unwavering confidence in yourselves that you won’t stoop to murder to free your own ass.  That dogshit type of determination sickens me but moves me at the same time. That’s why I’ve decided to give you a one-time pardon on Rule # 12!” Monodog declared.

 

“Rule 12?  You mean…”

 

“As your benevolent god, I’ve decided to give you a get-out-of-jail-free card, one even better than that rich bastard Mister Moneybags could ever create!  You have one punishment-free group escape attempt, no strings attached! Key word being _group_ escape though, so multiple people need pull the attempt.  Singular attempts at escape _will_ be punishable,” Monodog said.

 

“That’s all for now!  Byeonara suckers!” Monocat cheered.

 

“BYE-BYE!  TRY NOT TO DIE!”

 

The remaining Wardens, except for Monotaro, disappeared.

 

“Hey!  Wait for me!” Monotaro called as he ran out of the Mess Hall.

 

“That’s just fucking great,” Capone groaned.  “Two are dead, another is critically injured, and all we get is access to more of the prison and an escape attempt that has to be used with all of you fuckers.  Now the only way out is murder. Where the hell can I get a cigarette? I need a damn smoke.”

 

“You’d really plan on escaping by yourself?  How selfish can you get?” Maisy asked.

 

“I’d say he’s pretty selfish, Little Miss Hypocrite,” Serenity said in a deadpan manner.

 

“Screw you Mr. Melancholy!” Maisy retorted.

 

“Enough.  We need to consider our next move,” I said.  “Where do we go from here?”

 

“Maybe we should investigate the North Wing.  There could be some clues there about why we’re in this situation.  We could also check on L-leon,” Liz shared.

 

“Wow.  Since when do you care about other people?” Nara rudely asked.

 

“You’re one to talk,” Maisy muttered.

 

“What was that, you rich little bitch?  I won’t hesitate to kick your ass, plain and simple,” Nara threatened.

 

“I already said to cut it out already,” I sighed.

 

“If only Leon were here.  His loud voice could shut everyone up,” Emile said in a half-joking way.

 

“We must investigate.  That cannot be ignored,” Mason mumbled from his own table.  “Too many mysteries with too little information. There’s so much more I need to know to this conspiracy.”

 

“Screw that!  Let’s get the hell out of here before any more of us have to die!” Maisy spat.  “I certainly don’t want to die in a hellhole like this.”

 

“For once, I actually agree with her.  I’m itchin’ to return to my men and I won't hesitate to kill to get what I want.  If nobody wants a bullet between the eyes or the old concrete shoes, I suggest we find an escape route and take that chance,” Capone said.

 

“And risk leaving Leon behind?  We can’t do that. Especially when he’s hurt,” Rachnae countered.

 

“Zat eez just your maternal instincts kicking in.  Leon eez fine. We can always escape and find someone to send help afterward,” Pierre said.

 

“B-but he could be dead by that time happens.  We don’t know sort of conditions he’s even in. W-who knows if he’ll even live?” Cang pointed out.

 

“I agree with Cang here,” Ayla said as she draped her arm around Cang.  “She’s right. We don’t even know if anyone would even be able to help him.”

 

“Geez, you’ve got no brain at all if you’re just blindly agreeing with whatever your crush says.  Puh-lease!” Audrey complained.

“H-hey!” Ayla shouted.  “Shut up! She’s not my crush!”  Her face turned a crimson shade of red as she slouched in embarrassment.  

 

“Still, they do raise a point,” Emile said as he rubbed his chin in thought.  “We don’t even know where this prison is, let alone if other people would even be able to find it.”

 

After Emile said this, the Mess Hall erupted into a chaotic shouting match as everyone tried to make their opinions heard.  I was dragged into all of the shouting trying to calm down the group while Serenity sat back in his chair silently. The unrelenting shouting continued for a few minutes until Serenity pulled his revolver out of his pocket and fired at the ceiling.  A loud bang reverberated throughout the room and the noise instantly died as we turned to look at him in surprise. Why would Serenity, a normally reserved and melancholic person, perform such a bold and potentially deadly act?

 

“All right.  I’m sick of all of this arguing.  You’re yelling more than my ex-wife did on the day of our divorce,” he said with a said chuckle.  “I haven’t given my opinion on the whole matter at hand yet. I have a feeling you’ll all appreciate what I have to say.”

 

He cleared his throat and continued.

 

“We need to think about this rationally.  The Wardens have yet to present the next motive so we only have a small window of time to escape without anyone needing to die.  Lord knows I’ve seen enough blood to last a lifetime on earth and in hell. Leaving Leon behind is out of the question because he deserves a chance to escape just like the rest of us.  The Wardens also never put a time limit on their offer, meaning that we can escape whenever we see fit. However, we have no way of knowing exactly how we can escape and where to escape from.  For all we know, the only possible escape route is in a sealed off wing of the prison and two or more of us would need to die for everyone else’s sake. There’s also the next motive we need to be wary of since we don’t know when those stuffed animals will make their next move.  If they try anything, there’s nothing we can do to refuse them. We would just end up like Leon. Monodog also never said how many people need to be present for the escape attempt to count. All he said was that it needs to be a group escape. Knowing how evil he is, I’m sure the bare minimum number of people would constitute as a group.  And there are enough people here that I can think of off of the top of my head who would stab us in the back and try to selfishly escape,” Serenity said with a pause as he gave a solemn and dejected look to Capone, Nara and Maisy. Then, he continued his speech.

 

“In short, here’s what I think we should do.  Give up.”

 

“You would really abandon Leon like zat?  Zat eez just hypocritical crap coming from you,” Pierre said.

 

“Now, now.  You misunderstand me.  I’m not talking about giving up on Leon and abandoning him nor am I talking about giving up on anyone else here.  I’m talking about giving up on the idea of escaping. Abandoning hope before we’re left with more pain than before,” Serenity said.

 

“Are you crazy?  If we give up hope, all that will be left is despair!  Giving up means those shitty stuffed animals win!” Nara growled as she grabbed Serenity by his coat.  “Is that what you want? Are you working with them?” she shouted.

 

“Calm down, Nara.  Just take a few deep breaths.  We need to talk this out and let him speak.  You’ll have your turn after. That’s the key to listening and understanding one another,” Rachnae advised.

 

“Screw understanding!  Screw this situation! Screw you!  I thought that if I were more sociable and open with others that we could peacefully coexist here.  I was a fool to think for even a second that we could sing Kumbaya and get to know each other. This killing game is no different than my drug business.  On the streets, it’s every man for themself no matter how dire the situation becomes. And now we have one person telling us to simply give up on our only chance of getting the hell out of here and another who doesn't know when to shut the hell up and stop treating us like her damn children with her crap about peace and talking it out!” Nara ranted.  She threw Serenity to the ground and spat on him.

 

“I agree with Rachnae.  You need to calm down,” the contract killer said as he brushed himself off and stood up.  “I was merely making a suggestion. I’ve given up on hope long ago. I’ve fallen down far too deep down the rabbit hole to ever pull myself back up.  The more I struggle, the more I sink back into despair. I’ve tried to fix my life and reconcile with my wife but every bit of hope I’ve ever had was crushed and the only thing I could do was watch as my life further crumbled around me.  Hope only leads to more despair. But that’s just my opinion. You can interpret my words however you like,” he said as he began to walk away.

 

“Hey,” I called.  “Where are you going?”  

 

“I’m just taking a little walk.  Maybe I’ll explore the North Wing while I’m at it,” he replied.

 

“Serenity, there’s no reason to give up hope.  Sure, things might get worse, but we have to look on the bright side.  If there’s a way that all of us can make it out alive, we have to take that chance no matter what might happen.  Sure, hope might lead to despair, but what happens when it doesn't? What happens if hope can lead to something beautiful?” I told him.

 

“Heh.  I admire that foolish optimism of yours.  It’ll be a shame to see that passion for life die once you lose hope,” he said with a chuckle.

 

“Serenity, you can’t give up now.  Promise me that you’ll consider what I just said.  You’re my friend. I just want to see you be happy,” I pleaded.

 

“Unfortunately, I’m not an optimist.  My glass is neither half full nor half empty.  It’s completely empty. Been so for years. Trust me.  Don’t ger your hopes up about escape.”

 

With that, Serenity left and Capone started to clap.

 

“You know, I think I could really become friends with that guy. Not ‘friends’ like you claim we all are but actual friends.  He knows the way the world works. Those who embrace the harsh disappointments and cruel realities of the world thrive while the foolish die.  Why else do you think the mafia are so powerful? We’re realists while of all of the idealists out there, like you, Blake, wind up with a bullet between the eye, concrete shoes, an acid bath, or worse by our hands.  Serenity’s been a contract killer for years, so he knows what it’s like to see those with hope be utterly destroyed. I’m no pessimist, but I think he’s onto something. See you fuckers around. I’m investigating on my own.”

 

With that, Capone left and the mood in the room instantly dropped.  Before Serenity and Capone gave us their insight, we were already feeling enough despair about our deceased friends and Leon’s injuries.  Now, it feels like there’s a heavy storm cloud hanging over our heads, threatening to start raining down despair and flooding us with the “harsh realities” that Serenity and Leon spoke about.  I slapped my cheeks to remove all of these depressing thoughts from my head and decided to ignore their words. I knew that if we remained positive and held on to hope, we could beat the Wardens and survive.  So, I took a deep breath and turned to the remaining members of the group.

 

“Who’s up for a little exploration?” I asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are two major references in this chapter, but I'll give you one of them now since it's kind of obscure. It's a little hard to pick up on, but the general layout of the prison is shaped like the World Government symbol from One Piece. God, I love one Piece. The story is really picking up now and I'm pumped for the Reverie and Zou.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll have a few references hidden in each chapter of the story. I gave you five freebies in the beginning notes just for this chapter. I believe there are five more references in this chapter. The first person to find them will get a shout-out in the beginning notes of the next chapter. Please bookmark, comment or leave kudos. I appreciate any and all feedback. Feel free to post any thoughts or theories in the comments too. I'll try to respond to your comments.


End file.
